A Wizard Escapes
by Hubristic Chick
Summary: Harry James Potter has survived the War...but is now alone. He is the Magical World's Hero...but for how long? When he turns 21,Harry comes into his full powers and the wizarding world turns its back. AU after Book 4-Crossover with X-men SlashHarry/Gambit
1. Chapter 1

-1A few things before the start of this story…The timeline is no where near that of the canon. Ya, epic fail for me when it comes to that, though I really don't think that is the most important of things in a story.

This is a crossover fic, might be slash, super powers for Harry galore (though plenty struggles), and I would appreciate a review! Though flames might make me cry. Sniffle. Oh ya, lemme just say AU AU AU AU after book five.

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or the X-men. Duh.

And now without further ado or wasting of your time…

**A Wizard's Escape**

By Hubristic Chick

**Prologue **

Hello there. New to the wizarding world? Hmm, I can help you there. Here is a quick summary of what you need to know to survive.

The most important thing, in my opinion, is to know that the wizarding world is a corrupt, fickle, intolerant, and immature society. Quite frighteningly so, in all of these assessments.

What? You expected to be taught spells and how to pull off a pointy hat and sparkly robes?

Let's make a few things clear. Today's society has watered down Magic to a more easily digestible practice.

European wizards have even limited themselves to Latin as the only language for their spells, and wands for basic magical tools.

Simply shameful.

In recent years, there have been wars fought over blood of all things. Purebloods seek to stake their claim as the undisputed royalty of the wizarding world. Half-Bloods and Muggleborn are cast into shadow.

Beings with Magic woven into their very souls are ostracized as Dark. The werewolves of mundane legend, the vampires of ancient lore, even the Faerie Folk, are all, to the wizarding world, less than people.

And don't get me started on the views about mundane people of the world. Amused tolerance at best with an unhealthy dash of ignorance to pure hatred based in fear of the unknown, of what could, perhaps, be more powerful.

At the moment, the second of the Blood Wars is over. The crazed terrorist Tom Marvolo Riddle, intent on nothing but murder of those deemed unfit and his own immortality, was defeated by his nemesis, the man known by as the Light's finest Warrior. Harry James Potter.

Never heard of him have you? Hmm, consider yourself notified of his Greatness.

Currently celebrated not only as the Hero of the Century by _Wizard's Now_, but also the richest man in Britain by _Gringotts Monthly_, hottest wizard by _Teen Witch, _and, well, you get the idea. 

He is the number one figure of the times, politically, socially, and magically.

But like I said the wizarding world is corrupt, fickle, intolerant, and immature.

You'll see, by reading the headlines, hearing the gossip, and watching the Ministry, how even the name of their proclaimed Hero will be cast into shadow and fear.

For the most terrifying of creatures will soon come to the attention of the wizarding world; mundanes who are not so mundane. Mundanes who lack a magical core and yet have powers never seen before.

Those who can move objects with their minds alone, those who can steal your life force with a touch; those who could control the very earth and those who create fireworks of energy with hands alone.

They are not magic. They are not mundane. They are mutant.

And Harry James Potter is one of them…

**Chapter One**

July 30, 2003 London, England

"Mr. Potter," sneered a deep voice. A sallow countenance poked its head into the darkened library of the gloomy, hidden mansion at Number 12 Grimmauld.

The voice repeated itself, with more venom present at having to repeat its statement.

"Mr. Potter!"

A shuffle sounded in the muted library. It was a shadowy room, cramped and stuffed with books. In the center was a wooden desk, chair, and lamp. Papers and books covered every scrap of bare space. The chair was empty.

The owner of the sneering voice stepped into the library fully and his sneer turned into a baring of teeth, nearly a growl.

"Mr. Potter, it is my displeasure to inform you on behalf of your insistent and annoying house elves, that you have missed the last 12 meals they have prepared."

A figure moved in a corner.

"I assure you I did not trek to this part of Britain to play the part of caretaker," continued the man, searching the room for the young man, dark eyes betraying anxiousness that his voice kept secret.

A deeper, darker voice finally answered. "Severus."

Another movement and suddenly the shadows were chased away by magic and Severus Snape could see for the first time the face of his former student.

Long, unkempt black hair spilled over his shoulders with two thick strands framing a too pale face. Green eyes were unfocused and a frightening lime green.

Severus drew a quick breath. "Harry…."

A thin collarbone poked from a white muggle button down shirt and black jeans bagged over sharp hips.

The light green eyes darkened and focused as they looked at the man, the lithe body leaning upon a wall of books. White glinted in his hair and heavy shadows dominated his face, the hollows of his face thrown into sharp relief by the magical light.

"What brings you here Severus?"

The Potion's Master looked at him, glare acidic.

"I wonder. Nearly a month with nary a word from the still recovering Man-Who-Lived, neither to the his friends nor…"

Harry's face had twisted at the last. "My friends are dead!" He had not moved but his arms clutched convulsively at his chest and his eyes flashed the unfocused, frightening lime before returning to angry emerald.

Snape didn't soften outwardly but his heart ached. _Ah, Lily, your son suffers so._

After Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts and the subsequent rising of the Dark Lord, the Boy-Who-Lived had been thrown into a world of non-stop training. Magic, weaponry, strategy, anything that cold make him a better fighter. He had been told the prophecy and while he had been scared, he was also determined, determined not to allow Voldemort gain victory over the wizarding world.

There would not be, Harry promised himself, another Cedric, another victim to die as Harry watched, helpless.

He was naïve.

oOo

The Harry of a year later was taller, tougher, and smarter. He had been pulled from Hogwarts to tour the world and learn from the best magical duelers, warriors, and assassins. Dumbledore called upon numerous contemporaries and friends, many of whom were eager to aid their old friend. Upon meeting Harry however, they found themselves wanting to help the lad, whose heart was pure and strong, to survive. And the temptation to bestow their knowledge upon the incredibly gifted teen was too much to withstand.

After his fifteenth birthday, Harry's powers had grown immensely. At only the earliest years of his life, his connection to magic was unparalleled. He felt it, not as tool but as a nearly sentient power. It obeyed him without spells and gifted him with extraordinary potential as a fighter.

However, as wonderful as connections and potential are, practice and application are the more difficult to obtain.

The tutors Harry had put him through hell- treks through jungles and desert, wasteland and tundra to help him learn survival- in magical and mundane ways. Encounters with strange creatures taught him about when to defend himself and when to learn from others. Long hours were spent in libraries, books piled high around him. Duels and skirmishes with Dark Wizards were his testing grounds and his knowledge grew in leaps and bounds. How to kill, how to heal, how to protect, how to scout out enemies…

In his fifth year, nearly 10 months after his instruction had began, Voldemort made a move against the Light that would prove to be the first of many devastating attacks.

Death Eaters had surrounded the Burrow and set it to fire.

The Floo network had been shut through a subtly placed minion in the Ministry and anti-apparation wards were set up around the property. A few muttered Accios had taken care of the emergency portkeys the Weasely's had possessed.

Now as most wizards were wont to do, the Weasley's had warded their home against flame. But the Death Eaters had a spell of Black Magic, that sent waves of fire through a target and burned only human flesh. Freeze Fire charms were useless.

Caught within their home that day were Arthur, Molly, Ron, and Percy. Each perished before the Order of the Phoenix could arrive. By the time Moody and Kingsley made it through the anti-apparation wards, the Death Eaters were gone and the Dark Mark hovered above the Burrow.

When Harry heard of the news he did not scream, nor cry, nor anything one might expect to see in boy deprived of his foster parents and brothers. He became very still.

His mentor of the moment, an elderly wizard he had spent a month with already in Africa learning Battle Magic, had tried to comfort him. But he did nothing but sit very still, unblinking, in a hard wooden chair, for hours. Thoughts ran through his mind but he did not react to any of them. He just sat.

The next day he threw himself into training with a ferocity that worried his mentor. He still did not cry nor speak.

Three days later, the day of the funeral for the Weasley's, Harry apparated to Hogwarts.

Cloaked, he joined those grieving silently, looking briefly around. Hermione stood with her parents and Ginny, pale faced and red eyed. Ginny looked lost. The only reason she was alive was Hermione's invitation to go shopping in Muggle London the day of the attack. Now, Hermione's parents had taken guardianship of her until she reached 18.

The twins stood with Charlie and Bill. They had nearly reached their majority in the magical world and had been staying with Charlie for the summer. They were also white, their faces strained in a way that was previously impossible for the carefree jokers. Charlie and Bill were stony, composed for their brothers and sister, but emotionally unreachable.

Harry looked on and in his heart, whipped himself for believing he could protect his family. The sharpest wound was the death of his best friend, his brother. It had been a cruel and bitter way to die- as bad as a whispered 'kill the spare' and streak of green light.

It was now that he lost the part of him that believed everything would be all right. Nothing would be all right, nothing could be after this day.

The only thing to do, as he saw it, was end Voldemort as quickly as possible.

He left without a word to Hermione or anyone else, returning to Africa to once again train.

The next time he was to return to Hogwarts was after his sixteenth birthday. He had sent letters to Hermione during the time that passed, giving her all the love and support he could. She understood his reasoning for staying away, she wrote, her pen often wobbly and paper tear stained, and gave all her love and friendship in return. His other connections to the wizarding world were hazier Remus and Sirius had their own missions and with Harry's training, there was little chance for Harry to see either of them.

_It's better this way _Harry repeated to himself. He didn't want attract attention to them or anyone else. He held the Ron and his parents and brother's deaths upon his head, along with the Dursley's who had been murdered shortly after They had been abusive sons of bitches but death was not what he would have wished for them.

_I'm a danger to love, to even know…_

oOo

Voldemort had resumed his terrorist attacks against the world and Harry tried to track his movements through visions he received through his scar.

Occlumency, though he had mastered the art sometime in his fifth year, was useless as the connection to the mad man was bound through his soul. He raced to meet the attacks he could predict, fighting alongside aurors and order members, perpetually cloaked and mysterious to other wizards.

In yet another crippling attack, Voldemort had raided Diagon Alley, seeking to destroy and demoralize.

The order was there to meet the Death Eaters and, lurking in the shadows, Harry fought with the guerilla-like strategy he had picked up from vets in Cuba. Death wasn't something he minded dealing out to the bastards he had been forced to observe having _fun _through his visions.

The forces of both Light and Dark seemed equally matched, with curses flying from wand to wand. Then Voldemort decided to get creative.

A whispered chant later and the Hell Hounds of the Sidhe were summoned.

After that it was a massacre.

The order tried to fight back but the beasts were intangible, drawing close to bite and maul the wizards and then disappear to the next victim. Their bite was deadly. Sharp teeth, poisonous saliva, powerful jaws insured painful death. Of the order members, Remus and Sirius were killed within minutes. Harry had turned from subduing a random Death Eater just in time to see the werewolf fall beside his lifelong friend.

Harry, in the midst of battle, once more became very still. Within moments though, his stillness was broken.

A scream tore through the Alley, inhumane and agonized.

With eyes a bright, lime green, Harry pulled upon his magic to complete a wordless, wandless spell of command.

The Hell Hounds stopped as one and looking to the curious creature who had called them with such grief and rage within his heart, waited his command.

"Kill the Dark Ones," Harry grated out, sending a mental picture of the hooded, masked wizards, "And I will return you to your realm. Refuse and perish."

The massacre then turned tides, as the remaining Death Eaters were summarily slaughtered by blood thirsty hounds eager to please the powerful mage.

At the end of the battle, hundreds of bodies littered the Alley, Death Eater, civilian, Auror, and order members alike.

Harry had commanded the hounds back to the Sidhe and carefully gathered the bodies of his two parental figures with magic. He took them to Godric's Hollow and laid them to rest, quietly and alone, his heart numb, before returning to Hogwarts. He then curtly informed an astonished and grieved Dumbledore of his actions and apparated out of Hogwarts without waiting for a response. If there had been any restraints on his magic before, they were demolished today.

Voldemort had fled the last battle and was now more cautious after having seen the absolute command Harry had had over _his _summoned creatures. There were still attacks but as before, Harry swept into battle, a magical powerhouse, and now, they were fewer. His identity had been found out though, for better or worse by those at the Battle of Diagon Alley and he was heralded by the wizarding world as a hero more loudly than ever before.

But when he was not in battle, he returned to his grueling training. His eyes had no life in them and his world narrowed to only study and fighting.

By the end what would have been his seventh year, he was a machine- loaded with spells and skills that those many years older than him would never achieve and those his age should never have need for.

He returned to Hogwarts to meet with the Headmaster, having news of an attack or plan of some sort that had been brooding within the twisted mind of Voldemort for months. Dumbledore convinced the weary young man to reside at Hogwarts until what Voldemort was planning became clearer. He stayed there until his eighteenth birthday, studiously avoiding former friends and training in the dungeons with Snape of all people. They developed a tentative friendship that blossomed into a more trusting one.

The two bantered and researched together like old chums; partially due to Harry's new found maturity and respect for the former spy, who had been found out and forced to remain within the castle walls for the past two years for safety, a band of magic subduing the malevolence in his traitorous Dark Mark.

Together, they waited for what was to come. Harry was tense most of the time but the acerbic wit of the other man and his endless patience with being cooped up eased some of his worries. Harry Potter was a different man now, colder and harder to read, battle scarred in both his heart and body. This was a man Severus Snape could respect. Still the long hours pent up within the castle were difficult to bear. Voldemort had been quite for too long, his Death Eaters immobile.

One night, a particularly fierce vision accosted Harry. It left him panting and screaming, tangleed in his blankets and covered with sweat. This was NOT what he had expected from Voldemort at this point in the war.

Hermione, his last friend, _his sister_, had been captured.

TBC…

oOo

I'm going to leave it there for now. Evil Cackle.

The X-men stuff should come in the next chapter or so. This is not a Harry/Severus fic but I wanted them to have an established relationship as good friends.

Coming up soon….Harry and Hermione torture ahead… What made Harry into the shell he is earlier in this chapter? Also, the end of the second Blood War and soon… Harry's mutation!


	2. Chapter 2

-1I would like to first off thank my first two reviewers- Shinigami's Shadow and MomoTessen…Thanks so much!

Mm notes for this chapter…Angst coming your way, more death and pain…getting really close to meeting up with the X-men…perhaps in this chapter? We'll see. Evil snicker.

As far as pairings go, I'm almost positive it's going to be Harry/… Hmm I don't think I'm ready to give it away yet!! But yes, it's slash. If you feel the need to flame me…well, be aware that I will probably cry.

Now, without further ado…

**Chapter Two**

Previously…

_One night, a particularly fierce vision accosted Harry. It left him panting and screaming, tangled in his blankets and covered with sweat. This was NOT what he had expected from Voldemort at this point in the war._

_Hermione, his last friend, his sister, had been captured._

oOo

Snape had stood in his door as he prepared a bag.

"This is suicide."

There was no answer to the statement.

"You might make it past the wards, past the guards, even into her very cell."

Harry continued to pack potions into the small backpack.

Snape suddenly stood and pulled Harry around, forcing the young man to look at him as he hissed.

"But only because _he _wished it, because _he_ planned it to be so."

Harry looked at him, his face very still and his eyes the frightening lime green that was becoming more and more familiar.

"_Think_ Potter." His voice took on a pleading note.

"You would reach her, yes, but only to die with her. You would have no way out. The Dark Lord would not so blatantly invite you to his lair with your friend as his calling card, knowing how powerful you are, without having a plan to deal with you."

Harry's eyes turned darker, more sane. He looked at Snape, face softening. There was pity, and affection in that gaze, which seemed to catch Severus and say, I know this and more my friend, yet nothing will stop me.

Snape growled and contemplated going for his wand and attempting to subdue the boy.

Harry had broken free from his restraint and finished packing, strapping on the sporty, magically enhanced backpack.

He looked to Severus and now the look in his eyes spoke of something else.

It was a look of a man who knew Death and did not fear him. The look of a man who had had his heart ripped from his chest while still living and had been left with the knowledge that no matter how he bled, he would never be healed nor blessed with the sleep of the dead. The look of a man touched and manipulated by destiny and yet the holder of all the world's fate.

Severus could not stop him.

With a last, sad twitch of his lips, Harry James Potter transformed, for the first time in front of anyone, into his Animagus form, a silver phoenix. The other wizard looked on in amazement at the magical bird, a creature of silver and gold feathers and bright green eyes. A single trill and flash of silver flames later, Severus Snape was alone in the young man's quarters.

Shaking his uncharacteristic feelings of awe and wonder, the Potions Master huffed to himself, "Damn brat leaves me to tell the Headmaster."

However annoyed he might sound, Severus felt with a deep, foreboding conviction that he would not see the 'damn brat' for some time and when he did, the other would not be the same. For better or worse.

oOo

_For worse then._ Severus Snape stood with what remained of the Order of the Phoenix in what remained of the Dark Lord's Lair.

It had been two years since Harry had left a disgruntled Snape to inform the Headmaster of his disappearance. For those two years, the Death Eaters had been less lively and the Dark Lord inactive from any raids. There had been no sign of Harry Potter or Hermione Granger for the entire duration. The world was at a standstill. If Harry was dead, why had Voldemort not come forward to boast over his defeat? And if Voldemort was dead, then were was Harry?

The answer had come July 31st 2002, Harry's 20th birthday. No one knew how, but all of a sudden an hour or so after midnight, a previously hidden manor had appeared on the outskirts of a little known magical village in Scotland. A witch on her morning walk had promptly alerted the local authorities that a 'sinister looking mansion' had popped out of 'bloody nowhere'. Needless to say the local authorities alerted the Aurors and thus so, the Ministry. An investigative team came in to survey the property. There was no connection to the Floo System and there was no answer to shouted 'Hellos' at the heavy double gates. Movement was conspicuously absent and when finally the team got permission from their field captain to bust the gates down, there was still no response from the manor. The team moved forward and broke open the door, wands held in a defensive pose. Still nothing. The parlor they entered was richly furnished and clean. It could have been the home of a very wealthy old couple, with it's tasteful, if a bit dark, furniture and art.

However, the eerie feeling of the sinister lurking just beyond a visitor's vision was enough to set any notions of a quiet family home at rest. Moving quickly, the team opened door after door. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

The wizards began to wonder if the house had been abandoned or perhaps the last owner dead. After all, no one was there and the notice-me-not wards were down.

Then one young auror noticed a door leading to a lower floor. He went over and opened it, expecting to find, well, nothing.

An immediate swell of scent reached up from the dark passage.

He chocked on the heavy, bittersweet smell of blood and death. The others had noticed his position and as a team, lit their wands and went forth into the deep.

The long and winding stairs were cut off abruptly. The team leader conjured floating torches and with them, they could see the source of the evil smell.

Black clothed figures were slumped everywhere, against the stone walls of what appeared to be part of a dungeon.

A corridor of doors was visible, strewn with more bodies. The doors were heavy wood, scarred and grimy, with barred and tiny openings to look in. The end of the corridor had a particularly large door, which tilted off its hinges. A hand, streaked with blood, peeked through the door.

Gathering their courage, the team stepped into the corridor, coming across empty cell after empty cell. It seemed as if the dead bodies had been guarding or tormenting nothing. Yet when they finally stepped into the last room with the largest door, they realized exactly what they had stumbled upon.

There were more bodies, at least 10 black robed figures, cast about like broken dolls. Some appeared to have run into the room, others, seemingly attempting to get out. Three figures were prominent on the scene.

A skeleton, curled in an awkward, terrifying convulsion of death, with soot marks and ash around it.

A young woman, starved and tortured, wavy brown hair in disarray around her, lying in what appeared to be a circle of runes. Dead

And a man, manacles still encircling his wrists, kneeling amid the destruction, staring blankly at the young woman. His body was whipcord thin, covered in scar tissue and blood, tortured, defeated. Harry Potter

The team of aurors had found the battle ground of the Final Battle and it was not what anyone could have expected.

oOo

Taken into St. Mungo's, Harry was treated for his injuries, though after so long without treatment, severe scars were inevitable.

He had related in an empty voice the magical workings responsible for the destruction of Voldemort. A stream of soul-cleansing chants had purified the body and heart but in the same, wrought justice upon the man once known as Tom Riddle. He was burnt alive by Flame, the fire that could only burn in judgment. Summoned by Harry, the Flame sought out the Dark Lord and destroyed him utterly.

The world was safe. The loyal Death Eaters were taken out by the same blast of cleansing Flame. The Second Blood War was over. Harry Potter had done his pre-ordained job and was hailed as the savior of the modern magical world.

No matter if he had not saved _his_ world; his family; his friends. Hermione and Ron.

No matter that among the dead Death Eaters, lay the body of a bright vivacious witch, who had barley to begin her life.

No it didn't matter to them. Just Harry.

oOo

Now, a year after the defeat of Voldemort, Harry was about to celebrate, if one could call it a celebration to outlive your best friends at only 21, his birthday.

He had not healed from the gaping wounds that the war had left him with. He met with the remaining Grangers and Weasleys only a few times after the war, preferring to hole himself up within the house of his godfather than to face the families of the friends he had gotten killed. He never forgave himself for the bond of friendship to which they were all faithful to and had, to Harry, ultimately destroyed them.

Snape visited occasionally and Dumbledore. They watched him cave within himself as the months went by. The magic that always swirled around his hour when not guarded by Harry was tinged an unhealthy lime-green, as were his eyes. He lost weight, lost interest in the world around him, disconnecting himself just enough to sink into a world of books.

Both of the older wizards knew that suicide was an option he considered. But his animagus form made dying an impossibility. He would live as he always did- on the brink of breaking but never quite there.

And now on the eve of his 21st birthday, Harry met the beetle black eyes of Hogwarts' Potion Master.

"Please leave Severus."

There was no plea in the mild words. A request perhaps. Harry Potter would never beg again. After two years of begging, pleading, and…all for naught.

Harry had pleaded then with all that he had. And watched the murder of his sister in repayment.

Pleas were eliminated from Harry, sheared from his capability with Hermione's last moments.

No one knew what exactly had happened in the past two years, beyond a vague sense of capture, torture, and triumph.

Only Harry knew the dark truth and he had no wish to tell the world.

"No Harry." Severus stood firm. "I want you to come with me to Prince Manor."

This got Harry's attention. An invitation to Snape's ancestral home was rare to an extreme.

"Not a birthday party?" Harry offered this curiously. He knew Snape would be the last person to do this or offer his private residence as a location for revelry. There was something else.

Snape looked straight into the light green eyes. "Trewlany has…"

Harry for lack of a better word, _roared, _and tendrils of magic burst forth from his body.

"No more prophecy! No more words of fate upon my head!"

"Potter calm down! She has only been repeating a single phrase, a warning perhaps. She was in a trance until recently but there was no prophecy!"

The Potions Master had been brave, as Harry in a rage was a sight to behold.

Still angry and magic still wrapped lovingly, protectively around him Harry waited.

Snape sighed and rubbed his forehead. "'_He will change the night of his 21__st__ birthday_.' That is all she said. Dumbledore and I thought to offer you safe haven among friends, yes _friends_, if this 'change' does happen. We have no idea of the manner of change, if it is in fact real. But for your safety, we hope to guard over you during it."

The magic had faded a bit, though it never truly abandoned Harry, and, now, calmer without the threat of a full blown prophecy he asked, "Why Prince Manor? I can't imagine you offered your home to watch over a brat of a wizard's mysterious and belated pubescent changes?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "In fact, it was my idea. I have more focused wards at the moment than Hogwarts does during the summer." The next he stated harshly. "You are my friend and I wish to watch over you."

Harry started. And stared. "Professor I do believe you claimed friendship with me. Aloud. Without threat of death or torture."

A blush stained the sallow cheeks. "Are you coming or not?"

Harry hesitated. "If it means so much to you."

oOo

That night, settled into the bed of a luxurious room within the manor, with Professor's Snape and Dumbledore to watch over him, Harry waited for the stroke of twelve midnight as he had as a child. He was tired, in more ways than one, but did not fall asleep. He chattered absently with the two older wizards over a book of transforming magic he had read recently.

At 11:59, the wizard's sat tense, waiting.

At 12:00, Harry suddenly stiffened and began to glow. Dumbledore and Snape stood anxiously over him until a burst of magic wrenched them from the room. The door shut and barricaded itself against attempts to enter.

Harry felt was if his body were tearing itself apart from the inside out. His magic surged, as anxious as the two wizards barred from the room. It could not protect Harry from himself.

His body labored under its change for nearly an hour until finally he passed out, body still and unmoving. The door unlocked and Snape and Dumbledore rushed in.

Harry lay on the bed, unconscious and unresponsive to any number of eneverates and waking charms. Finally, the two settled in to simply wait, helpless to do anything else.

oOo

When he awoke, Harry was aware of several things. The soft snores of the two other wizards as the slumbered in comfortable, squishy charis, most likely courtesy of Dumbledore. The smell of his own sweaty body. The sounds and scents of tea being brewed, toast being toasted.

The last surprised him. In Prince Manor the kitchens were the hose elves worked were far from the bed chambers. How could he hear them? He opened his eyes. The embroidered canopy of his bed met his eyes. He could pick out every individual stitch. Harry turned his head and was met with the humorous sight of Dumbledore snoozing, his mustache lifting gently with every snore. Every line on his face was brought out with sharp relief to Harry's sight.

_What the bloody…_

Severus woke abruptly. Blinking sleep from his eyes rapidly, he rasped out, "Harry. You're awake."

Harry glared at him with a look that said, 'yes quite obviously' and tried to speak.

The attempt was hindered by a sudden coughing spell. His throat was drier than the Sahara. Snape spelled a fresh glass of water and handed to him. He drank, then spoke.

"What the fu-…"

Dumbledore blinked and woke up, shutting Harry up.

"Ah, Harry, my boy. How do you feel?"

Harry cataloged his aches and pains and found, quite to his surprise, there were none.

"Fine. Oddly enough. Felt terrible last night."

A strange silence fell. Harry caught on immediately.

"How long."

"Three days."

"Well, damn."

"Any differences? Your magic or mind or, anything?" Snape grinned, a rather foreign expression on his face. "You have more white hair now, great big streaks of it."

Harry snorted. "You're just smug because I'm going grey faster than you are." He turned to Dumbledore and half-grinned. "Do we match now?"

Dumbledore smiled gently and conjured a mirror.

Harry looked in and saw what they were talking about. His longish black hair was liberally streaked with white, even more so than before. It was in fact, nearly half white.

Nothing else had changed outwardly. Still thin, eyes still green.

But inside, he realized he could sense changes.

"Severus," he said quietly, "can you send a cutting curse to my arm?"

"What?"

"I just, well, it feels as if,… just do it please."

Severus drew his wand hesitantly and whispered the curse, aiming at Harry's arm. A smallish cut appeared but closed less than a second later, leaving no scar.

"Amazing," breathed Dumbledore.

Harry said nothing but looked pensive.

Snape appeared worried. "Harry you mustn't reveal this to the wizarding world."

Dumbledore agreed. "I believe you are a mutant Harry. The first mutant-wizard actually. You've heard of the appearance of mutants have you not?"

Harry nodded. "Vaguely. I know both the Muggle and Magical governments hate them. But I thought that the mutant gene activated during puberty?"

Severus answered him. "Muggle mutants perhaps but then, you are, according to all accounts we could access in the past three days, the first of your kind. Perhaps your magic interfered and delayed the process."

Harry nodded and said, "Makes sense but what is my mutation exactly? Super fast healing? I think…" He hesitated. "I think there is something else here, within me."

He concentrated fiercely for a moment, as he had when he searched for his inner animal during the animagus process.

"Ahh!" Power surged for a moment, then died down, controlled by Harry's self restraint.

Opening his eyes, Harry grinned. "Wicked."

oOo

A continent away, a machine named Cerebro registered the mind and powers of an off the charts mutant in England. A new mutant had been introduced to their power. Age 21. Name: Harry James Potter. Level: 8

….TBC

Hey everyone, sorry we didn't quite get to meeting the Xmen. SO, as an apology, a sneak peek!

BTW, I think Reviewers must have great karma :")

Sneak Peek: Chapter 3

The thief looked at the telepath and scratched his cheek absentmindedly, demonic eyes scrunched up in a look that imitated a confused toddler.. "Remy not sho' dat be da best ting fo' _le_ _garçon._" He nodded in agreement with himself. "_Oui_, _un terrible idée, Professeur."_


	3. Chapter 3

-1I luv you guys!! I am absolutely psyched and flattered by the reviews!

Thank you guys sooo much for really inspiring me!

Shinigami's Shadow- defensive yes, but that's not all!

MomoTessen- I adore your reviews… so long and detailed and full of lovely ideas! Ya Hermione's death was sad but relevant to the plot… though I do end up killing her and ron off a lot in my fics…oops?

Amai-Leid- consider me loved then!

Semper Paratis- yep all decided!

SuperDamage

Kagedfox

Bellashade

BOOMrobotdog- yup just like logan…but that's just the beginning

Momocolady

achillies-eel- lol luv ur name…and remember patience is a… oh wait the chapter's already here

AnimeConPhotoWhore- hmm maybe it shall be revealed…. I luv remy too!

Chirstina19

TweetyHope- thanks for the very sweet compliment

I adore your questions and they give me great ideas!

And now!!

**Chapter 3**

"Harry, would you consider relocating to America?"

Dumbledore, Snape, and Harry were enjoying the breakfast the house elves had made when the question came up.

Harry, still bedridden at the insistence of the others, looked at Dumbledore curiously.

"Why?"

Severus grunted and set his tea cup down harshly.

"Because Potter, you know how the fools at the ministry are. If you're found out, at best you might be labeled a dark creature and ostracized for the rest of your life. At worst, a quiet incarceration in Azkaban or quick execution would be swift in the coming."

Harry looked pale but unflustered. "And my crime? Even you two have no idea about my true powers. Hell, _I _have yet to discover them completely."

""Your crime? Harry don't be naïve. Your very existence as being with more magical power than any score of wizards threatens the Ministry. With the unknown additive of the powers of the most feared non-magical persons in the world, mutants, you become the ultimate menace to their authority. Not a mundane, yet not a full wizard any longer…"

Harry closed his eyes. "I just want to be left alone."

Dumbledore patted his hand, eyes sympathetic. "My boy, there is nothing more I, we, want for you than to be happy."

Harry turned his head away. No matter how powerful he became, no matter how grateful he was to be so finely in tune with his magic, nothing could make him happy. Unlike many a wizard, unlike many a _man_, he had realized very early on that it was your loved ones that made you happy, not power or money or authority. And his were lost.

"Go to America, to a man named Charles Xavier. He will help you to refine your powers."

Harry opened his eyes and silently asked a question.

Dumbledore smiled gently. "He is a mutant, a very powerful telepath, who has spent his life and fortune making a safe haven for mutants. He will not turn you away."

" I don't want to leave…" There was an unspoken end to the statement. Dumbledore was baffled to what it could be but Severus closed his eyes briefly.

"Harry you must let them go. They would hate to see you this way, wasting away and afraid to live without them."

Harry was still again, his half shuttered eyes lime green for a moment. He shook his head and said quickly, "I'll go."

Severus growled, "Avoiding this conversation…"

"Severus." It was Dumbledore who interrupted, looking all of his many years. "Let the boy go in peace. Perhaps he will find a new beginning amid the end of his time here."

The last was said with a look directed pointedly at Harry. "And with your animagus form, visiting will not be a problem."

oOo

And so without further ado, the manor at 12 Grimmauld place was closed up and Harry's very meager belongings packed in a magical rucksack. A mere two days and his bank accounts were set into order and he was ready to leave. Dumbledore had arranged for first class passage on a muggle jet. Both he and Severus came in a Lincoln Towns Car to pick up Harry at Grimmauld and escort him to London Heathrow.

However, just as Harry left the building, a team of ministry wizards appeared out of nowhere, Minister Fudge leading the pack.

"Harry Potter," he began pompously, "It has come to our attention that you are attempting to flee Great Britain."

Harry looked at him in disbelief. "Minister Fudge I am going to the States on holiday. If you will excuse me, I don't want to miss my flight."

"Now see here," the little man blustered, "We have been watching you and your accounts. It seems as if you are doing more than going on holiday!"

"It's really none of your bloody business Minister, what I choose to do with my money or time." Harry was calm on the outside but inwardly seethed at the latest injustice the ministry had decided to take part in.

The minister looked furious at his response. "Mr. Potter we have been informed that you have gone under a change recently. We would like you to come with us and undertake a few tests…"

"Who the fu- never mind. The answer is NO minister. In fact, I've already obtained citizenship through the United Sates Bureau of Magic and am no longer under your jurisdiction. SO, if you do not get off my property, I will curse you from here to next Tuesday."

With that he got into the car with Snape and Dumbledore who had been watching from behind tinted windows.

Dumbledore rolled his window down and smiled grimly at the Minister, who blanched, realizing that he had overstepped his authority with the two most powerful wizards in the world. "We will have words Cornelius, when I return."

With that they left.

At the airport, the three parted ways. Stuffing two packages into Harry's hands and murmuring something like," From me and the barmy old codger", Severus held his hand out to Harry. Setting down the packages and his bag, Harry grasped the man's hand and pulled him into a quick but strong embrace. "Thank you Severus, for keeping me from falling apart. I'll be in touch." The Potion's Master, who had been forced by circumstance to don a muggle suit, looked away, embarrassed by the sentiments. But he, in that moment, had hugged his friend back with equal force.

Dumbledore, also decked out in a suit, accepted his hug with more aplomb and embraced the young man he thought of as a grandchild tightly. "Thanks, Albus, for setting me on the right track. I'll miss you both."

Harry picked up his brown paper packages tied up with string and put them in his never-ending-space rucksack. It was also charmed to get through security without too much fuss. With one last wave, Harry moved through the crowds to join the line of muggles waiting to get through to their gates.

oOo

The ride was long but Harry found it relaxing. He ate a bit and watched a movie. The first class seats were very comfortable and somewhere high over the ocean he fell fast asleep.

"We will be touching down in New York within the next 20 minutes. The voice of the Capitan woke Harry, which was good considering that he needed to plan his arrival. Dumbledore had given Harry Xavier's address in New York but had advised Harry to find the wizarding section of NYC before he did anything else.

Harry decided that he would, for the first time in his life, spoil himself a bit.

He would find the best hotel in the area, go on a shopping trip, and then find the settlement of wizards.  
Harry had never before bought high end clothing or accessories but he would not show up on Xavier's doorstep looking like a vagabond. Thinking this sent a pang through his heart. Hermione had always insisted she would take him shopping for an entirely new wardrobe and then celebrate the spree by burning every article of clothing the Dursley's had given him.

The war had insured that he dress in armor like leathers and hardy materials such as dragon hide. And during his capture…

After the war he merely settled back into wearing the remnants of Dudley's old clothing. He could almost hear her now. 'Harry, you of all people _deserve _nice clothes. Oh if I could hex those relatives of yours…' His heart seemed to spasm within his chest as he remembered her.

The plane touched down, effectively ending that train of thought.

After exiting the airport, he hailed a cabbie and asked him to take him to the best hotel in the city, which turned out to be the Ritz-Carlton. After checking into a suite that, as the receptionist stated primly, he was lucky to get at such short notice, he promptly fell asleep, having only time to think, _jet lag's a bitch…_

He slept until morning the next day, waking up to a hungry stomach. He ordered room service, having breakfast in bed for the first time outside of a hospital wing. Then he dressed himself in his terrible, over sized clothes and went shopping.

_Shopping. Was there ever such a word to strike fear in man's heart?_

Harry didn't expect it but he enjoyed shopping, taking the subway to recommended areas like Nolita and Soho, Fifth Avenue and 57th street. By lunch time he was handsomely outfitted in designer jeans and carrying bags and bags of everything from undergarments to shirts to shoes, all in either funky styles or the most fashionable brands.

He returned to the hotel for afternoon tea at the Star Lounge and then went out again to get fitted for more formal wear and to treat himself to a very nice laptop and ipod.

By the time he got back for dinner in his room he was too exhausted to try it out, though he did spend the next day experimenting with it and lounging by the pool. He also cast several charms over his clothes so that they would fit even if he gained a bit more weight. He realized that he had been wasting away, slowly neglecting himself to death and planned to build up as much muscle as he could to get back to his wartime body, though he had always run to the skinny side, even eating his fill at Hogwarts.

After a week at the Ritz, Harry decided to venture into the strictly magical parts of NYC. He found without much difficultly the wizarding shopping center which unlike it's London counterpart, was a mall. He also discovered Magical Chinatown, a delight to Harry, who had studied under several Chinese wizards and loved their way of magic.

He stocked up on potion ingredients (he was fairly good now after Snape's one-on-one potions instruction) and picked up a new trunk with 7 compartments, each the size of a small room.

After this last purchase, he went to his suite, packed everything away, and checked out without further ado.

It was time to meet Charles Xavier.

oOo

In his sudden fashion of extravagance, he chartered a limo to take him to Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. After a comfortable ride, they reached Upstate New York without much fuss. The driver offered to help him with his trunk, though Harry refused, then left.

Harry as left alone in front of Victorian style mansion, large and, yet homey. Not imposing in the least.

At least that's what Harry told himself, over and over, as he approached the gates, dragging his trunk, feather light after him.

Before he could even look for a buzzer, a voice issued from nowhere.

"Can I ask your business?' It was a polite, cultured voice, though a bit wary.

Harry cleared his throat.

"I was hoping to meet with Mr. Charles Xavier? Erm, I just realized I was a mutant a few weeks ago and I…I was told to come here by my old Headmaster. My name is Harry Potter."

"Ahh a moment please." A few minutes later. "Please come in."

The gates opened and Harry entered.

At the steps, a large man stood. A large blue man. Harry blinked, put his luggage down, and stuck his hand out. "Harry Potter. Pleasure."

Hank Mckoy blinked right back and accepted his hand, taking in the man, no young man, in front of him.

At first he had thought, with the very white hair, that their visitor was older than he was. But on a closer look, he couldn't have been more than in his early twenties. Thin, malnourished even, tired looking, and terribly sad.

"Hank Mckoy. Likewise." Hank mimicked Harry's shorthand speech before breaking into a small grin and ushering him in, taking Harry's curiously light trunk.

Harry looked around the inside of the foyer. A grand staircase was predominate, with expensive but hardy furniture dotting the room. A baseball cap rested on a side table and a few books had been left on the staircase. It was a lived in home.

"Mr. Potter, please this way. I'm going to take your trunk to a guest room in a moment but the professor is very eager to meet you." Harry passed him a half-grin.

"Please, call me Harry."

"Harry then."

Hank led him through a hallway to another set of stairs and then another hallway, finally ending at a set of oak doors. Hank knocked and then left, taking with him Harry's trunk and the instructions to find him after he was done in the Medbay.

A strong, deep voice called out. "Come in."

Harry opened the door and walked in.

"Mr. Potter I presume?" The voice originated from a handsome, bald man sitting in a high quality wheel chair.

"Harry. I mean, yes." Harry strode over to shake his hand. It was warm and dry and despite himself, Harry relaxed a bit. "You're Mr. Charles Xavier?"

"Yes. Hank didn't tell me much about you Harry, beyond the fact that you are a mutant and in need of aid of some sort. How may I be of service?"

Harry looked puzzled for a moment, before remembering that the man was a telepath.

"I recently came into my powers as a mutant. I know that I have very fast healing capabilities and very perceptive senses. I can also sense some other power within me. My former Headmaster and teacher couldn't help me any further and England is not the best place at the moment for mutants, at least not the parts I come from."

Charles smiled. "We would be happy to help you any way we can. Would you like to stay here at the mansion? There are many here who prefer to be with others who have similar experiences and unique abilities."

Harry half grinned in response. "I don't think my experiences will be similar to anyone else's. But I'd be happy to pay for room and board." Xavier waved his hand, dismissing the offer, and wheeling way form the desk.

"I go by Charles or Professor X, as the students call me." He raised a brow as he wheeled out of the room and Harry followed.

"Harry I can tell you are hiding things, terrible and great things. But I don't believe you intend harm to the students nor I. You are truly welcome here." With that the professor led Harry to the MedBay and left him in the clutches of Doctor Henry Mcckoy.

oOo

_Remy would you please come to my office? _

The Cajun thief looked up from his game of solitare. "_D'accord, Professeur."_

He left his game without much thought. He had been itching for something to do for days now. Perhaps the professor had a mission of some sort.

Reaching the office, he stepped in with a flourish in his step.

"_Bonjour_. How can Remy be o' service."

"Remy I have an assignment for you." Remy grinned at this. Danger, fighting, a bit o' bloodshed…just what he had been hoping for!

"We have a new addition to the household." Remy's grin faltered.

Mentions of a rookie were never a good sign.

" A young man with Logan's regenerative powers and senses, along with another power, for now unknown. He will need help fitting in here. A friend perhaps."

The thief looked at the telepath and scratched his cheek absentmindedly, demonic eyes scrunched up in a look that imitated a confused toddler.. "Remy not sho' dat be da best ting fo' _le_ _garçon._" He nodded in agreement with himself. "_Oui_, _un idée terrible , Professeur." _

Xavier looked pensive for a minute. "I need your particular skills here Remy." Remy still looked confused.

"Wha' y' mean? Only skills Remy got be theivn' n' fighten. Less y' wan me t' court _le_ _garçon."_

"In a manner of speaking Remy. He's been hurt, emotionally, and his powers have apparently new. Your empathy would be very useful to establish a basis of support for him."

"I don't ask this of you lightly Remy. But he needs someone."

If possible Xavier's eyes sharpened. "And so do you."

Remy pouted. "Aright' Remy be _l'ami du garçon_. Wha be his name?"

"Harry Potter."

TBC…

oOo

I heart reviews and reviewers!

Here's a sneak peek!

Chapter 4

"Could you take off your shirt for me Harry? I need to run an EKG and check your lungs and heart."

Harry looked nervous for a moment.

"Go ahead," laughed Hank, "It's nothing I haven't seen before!"

_Somehow, I don't think so _thought Harry wryly, before he steeled himself and pulled of his designer shirt.

Hank turned around after a moment, holding the wires he would need to hook Harry up to the EKG machine. "Stars and garters," breathed Hank, "Harry…how?" He reached a large blue hand toward Harry's chest. Harry closed his eyes and held himself very still. 


	4. Chapter 4

-1

Thank You To…

Shinigami's Shadow- Ya I have a ship ready to sail with Rouge and…you'll see! Evil snicker

MomoTessen- Lol I'm not a New Yorker…but it's cool to be mistaken for one!…

Amai-Leid

Semper Paratis

SuperDamage

Kagedfox

Bellashade

BOOMrobotdog- is it weird that I agree with you? I love it when Harry has these permanent scars that forever mark his pain…

Momocolady

achillies-eel

AnimeConPhotoWhore

Chirstina19

TweetyHope

AngsterGangster- no prob… it's all French for now, with a healthy dose of English slang.. I tried to make him Cajun but I'm not terribly familiar with the lingo.

HarrySirius Fan- Thanks!

Ladyfoxfire

NOTE: I've been spelling Hank's last name wrong…it's Henry (Hank) McCoy

ALSO

Requested- a translation for Remy's colloquial diction. After this, I'll try to add a translation at the end of each chapter.

"D'accord, Professeur"

Okay Professor

"Remy not sho' dat be da best ting fo' le garçon."

I'm not sure that's the best thing for the boy

"Bonjour. How can Remy be o' service."

Good day. How can I be of service?

"Oui, un idée terrible , Professeur."

Yes, a terrible idea Professor

"Wha' y' mean? Only skills Remy got be theivn' n' fighten. Less y' wan me t' court le garçon."

What do you mean? The only skills I have are thieving and fighting. Unless you want me to court the boy

"Aright' Remy be l'ami du garçon. Wha be his name?"

Alright, I'll be the boy's friend. What's his name?

Chapter 4

After the professor dropped Harry off into Hank's capable hands, Harry had been prodded, had his temperature taken, eyes and ears checked, and blood drawn.

It was all very new to Harry, who as a child in the muggle world had never had a physical and had been subjected to a very different type of medical testing in the magical one. Finally, Hank pulled out a machine that appeared to be a printer connected to wires.

"Could you take off your shirt for me Harry? I need to run an EKG and check your lungs and heart."

Harry looked nervous for a moment.

"Go ahead," laughed Hank, "It's nothing I haven't seen before!"

_Somehow, I don't think so _thought Harry wryly, before he steeled himself and pulled of his designer shirt.

Hank turned around after a moment, holding the wires he would need to hook Harry up to the EKG machine. "Stars and garters," breathed Hank, "Harry…how?" He reached a large blue hand toward Harry's chest. Harry closed his eyes and held himself very still.

Barely brushing his skin, Hank traced over a deep gash, healed now and garishly scarred. It was one of many, many such scars. Whip marks left by flogging curses, chain burns carved into his wrists, slashes from repetitive cutting hexes…

Hank moved abruptly to his back, his speed startling Harry who flinched. A large hand came down on one shoulder to reassure him while golden eyes swiftly catalogued wound after wound.

"Some of these are very old." Hank tried for professional disinterest, but Harry could here the helplessness in the compassionate man's voice.

Harry sighed.

He didn't mind telling the man this but it wasn't fun to deal with the inevitable pity and sympathy. It really wasn't terrible in comparison to the wounds dealt to his heart, as dramatic as that might sound.

"My Uncle and Aunt were abusive." Harry said softly. "I was with them for nearly fifteen years."

Hank was quiet but furious. He gestured wordlessly to the other, more recent hurts.

"I've spent the last 5 or 6 years fighting against a terrorist after my blood. I was captured and held prisoner for a year."

Hank choked out, "I would like to document these. For further treatment, as some of these can be healed a bit more and for…I'm sorry Harry, this is a more private question than I would usually ask on a first meeting but…"

"Go ahead Dr. McCoy."

"Have you ever thought of charging your relatives with abuse? These wounds are the worst I have ever seen on such a young man…You must have been a very small child when this began."

Hank was flustered but he had to know.

Harry was still for a moment. "No. It would do no good." When Hank looked upset but did not speak out further in respect to Harry.

Harry appreciated the lack of butting in and explained gently the situation.

"They were murdered, when I was fifteen."

Hank looked lost.

"It's alright Dr. McCoy, I'm fine. I'm also," Harry smiled wistfully, "Very tired. Perhaps, when we're done, I could take a nap?"

Hank snapped out of his daze. "Of course I'll call a student up to show you to your room. Let me just finish up with the EKG and documentation."

He worked quickly and when he finished, called someone as Harry pulled his shirt on.

As they waited, Hank met Harry's weary green eyes with his own. "Harry, come visit me sometime will you? Not only when you're ill. To talk or just have a cup of tea. I would greatly enjoy your company."

Harry smiled genuinely. "Thanks Dr. McCoy. I'd like that."

A few moments later, there was a knock on the MedBay's door, a quick, staccato beat.

And without pausing the door was opened.

"_Bonjour."_

oOo

Moments before….

Remy had just begun to take his leave of the professor's office when Hank had called in, requesting a student guide to take the newcomer to his room.

The professor replied that he would send someone right away and hung up before giving Remy a look that said, 'Isn't this fortuitous? Run along now and be nice!'

Remy sighed, "Where dis room o' his be?"

"The other attic room."

Remy looked disbelieving. "De empty one next ta' Remy's? Professor…"

Xavier looked at him pointedly.

He held his half-gloved hands up. "A'right, a'right. Remy be leavin'"

He sauntered down to the Medbay, whistling a French love song under his breath.

When he reached the entrance, he knocked a quick series of taps then let himself in.

"_Bonjour_."

He grinned brightly as he scanned the clinical setting. There was the kind Dr. McCoy in all his blue-furred glory. And next to him…

All Remy's mind could come up with was _Cher Dieu_.

The boy, young man, was beautiful. Red lips, bright green eyes, pale skin…he would have put Snow White to shame. He was tall and thin, almost unhealthily so. And his hair was almost like Rouge's, streaked heavily white, though more dramatically and sporadically than the young woman's.

Remy covered up the mental falter quickly.

"So you be de Harry Potter Professor X asked Remy to play nice wit'. _C'est un plaisir_ ."

Harry looked at him, eyes calm. Remy braced himself. He wasn't wearing his shades and his own eyes, red on black, had frightened or disturbed many.

The green eyes met his own and seemed to understand his trepidation. Without pause a strong British accent said, "I'm at the disadvantage. You know my name and I…"

Remy smirked, partially in relief. "Remy LeBeau, also known t' answer t' Gambit. Remy be yo' guide fo a while."

Harry nodded tiredly and stood up, bidding Hank goodbye.

Turning to Beast, Remy grinned a farewell and led Harry through the door to his bedroom. "_Au revoir_."

oOo

Remy lead the tired young man to the elevator that would take them to the attic, casting, appreciative gazes at the beauty next to him.

Harry, being oblivious to many things, including flirtatious glances, wondered if he had put his shirt on backwards or left it open to one of his scars. He looked down quickly. No.

Remy took in the confused look and chuckled in his head.

Harry was innocent and, dare he think it?, cute. Not usually Remy's type but something about him struck a chord within the thief's heart.

He wanted him, to know him; his mind and soul.

_And of course_, Remy thought wickedly, _his body. _

_But that can wait. Those green eyes of his… I want to know his pain and heal it…and…I want his heart._

Remy grinned. And what sorta' master thief would Remy be if he couldn't steal a heart?

oOo

A bit longer and they had reached the attic. There were three doors dotting an immense room filled with a pool table, leather couches, a bar, and other furnishings.

Remy pointed to a door on the left. "Dat be Remy's room. Knock when y' need Remy, less' it be an emergency. Dat," pointing to a door in the middle of the room," be de bathroom. Remy keeps it clean an' would appreciate y' doin de same. And _dat_ is yo' room." He gestured dramatically to the last door with a grin. "Y' need Remy t' tuck y' in?"

"Hmm?" Harry was falling asleep where he stood, green eyes half closed. Remy paused. "Remy thinks y' might need a lil' bit o' help." He held an arm out to Harry and half carried him to the door, opening it with one skillful hand.

The room was a lovely blue color, not plush, but rather antique looking. A queen sized bed stood on the middle and Harry's trunk rested at the end of it. Remy lay Harry down on the bed and went to the trunk, trying to open it and find night clothes.

But the trunk wouldn't budge open even though there was no lock. It fascinated the thief in Remy but he also realized Harry was on the verge of falling asleep. He removed his shoes instead and pulled the covers over him. "G'night Harry." With that, Remy headed for the door.

"Remy."

The voice was sleepy and slurred. "Remy…I like your eyes." Remy froze and felt something inside him warm.

Demonic eyes soft and surprised, he answered. "Remy like yo' eyes too Harry. Now sleep _ange."_

Harry smiled and let sleep wash over him at last.

TBC…

I love your reviews! They really really inspire me to keep writing!

Sneak Peek

Chapter 5

A growl sounded throughout the kitchen. Harry gripped his cup of tea harder. A hoarse voice asked. "Who's the kid?" Remy turned to the entrance of the kitchen. "Ah. Bonjour Wolverine. Dis be Harry, de newest addition t' de mansion."

Wolverine growled again.

"He smell's…_unnatural_."

_**Translations **_

**Note: I don't want to have to translate every word Remy speaks but the ones that are in French or jumbled- Cajun/English/Slang I'll be happy to translate.**

"Where dis room o' his be?" Where is this room of his?

Cher Dieu- Dear God

C'est un plaisir- It's a pleasure

Au Revoir- Goodbye

Remy LeBeau, also known t' answer t' Gambit. Remy be yo' guide fo a while."-

Remy LeBeau, also known to answer to Gambit. I'll be your guide for a while

"Dat be Remy's room. Knock when y' need Remy, less' it be an emergency. Dat be de bathroom. Remy keeps it clean an' would appreciate y' doin de same. And dat is yo' room."

That's my room. Knock when you need me unless it's an emergency. That's the Bathroom. I keep it clean and would appreciate you doing the same. And that is your room.

"Y' need Remy t' tuck y' in?"

You need me to tuck you in?

"Remy thinks y' might need a lil' bit o' help"

I think you might need a little bit of help

_Ange_- angel


	5. Chapter 5

-1

Thank You To…

Shinigami's Shadow….chuckle…actually I adore Rouge.. She is my all time fav X-men character…but sadly, she didn't really fit in this story as well as Remy for example does…I did think about a threesome for about five minutes…but that doesn't really fit either…

MomoTessen-first fan girl ever! Magic card tricks coming right up! I actually adore that idea sooo much…I have the perfect scene already in my head so muchos gracias…I heart Logan as well…Ya Hank is sooo a teddy bear in my fic…Think of him as Hagrid but with a much higher IQ, cultured, and reliable-wahh I don't mean to put Hagrid down tho!

Amai-Leid

Semper Paratis- haha thanks!

SuperDamage

Kagedfox

Bellashade

BOOMrobotdog

Momocolady

achillies-eel

AnimeConPhotoWhore

Chirstina19

TweetyHope

AngsterGangster- oh that's a relief it's awfully hard to 'translate' everything he says! I'll just do the French and really slangy stuff now. He speaks it because he's Cajun…from Louisiana, ya know New Orleans…The French quarter is VERY French

HarrySirius Fan

Ladyfoxfire

Ladyroo88-Thanks!

Sable2684- I luv Angel as well…he'll be coming in soon!

Angelkitty77- they'll get together soon but not TOO soon…I want a little bit of a slow build up before their romance is truly sparked :")

Elfanyan- Merci beaucoup!…I'm trying really hard to make the French believable-I actually took Spanish for years but I'm really interested in French…thanks so much for your review! J'espère que vous réexaminez bientôt !

Christina-Marie-35

Meany

Lina03- Thank you so much for your detailed review!…Hmm, I wasn't planning on a friendship between those two… now that I think of it that would go really really well…Thanks for the idea!!

Vairetwilight- don't worry it won't be all angst all the time! Ya he'll have good in his life soon…cough cough-Remy

Otspock-Thanks!  
BloodyLonesome89-Thanks! I'm hurrying I'm hurrying!

CatWriter That was a super long review thanks!…who ever said Harry was the bottom? So far they don't know each other at all…there's a lot of depth to be discovered…Harry in my story is a very strong person so he and Remy are, in my opinion equals. Yep he'll keep his animagus form. He is just the same as before just with more powers…For the rest, it will all be answered eventually!

I want to recommend a fic for you guys…Harry Potter and the World that Waits by Dellacouer It is sooo amazing!! X-men/Harry Potter and very excellent

**Question- do you all prefer shorter chapter sooner or longer ones with a few more days in between?**

**Chapter 5**

Harry slept well for the first time in…well, years, if he was honest with himself. He did not dream of hate filled stares of the deceased or the terrible last moments of their lives. He did not dream of battle, or anguish, or anything at all. When he peacefully awoke, it was to the memory of red on black eyes and a grinning mouth. Remy Lebeau.

He was incredibly handsome.

Harry started. He had never thought of any man like that. In fact he had never thought of anyone like that.

But Remy Lebeau was a very attractive man. His dark brown hair gleamed with an auburn sheen and his eyes were the most beautiful Harry had ever seen- bright red jewels upon velvet black. They burned with charm and humor and Harry found himself almost wanting to come out of his icy shell to truly speak with the man.

But even as he pondered getting to know this Remy, his heart seized.

_He'll probably think you're even freakier than you are now if he knew you were perving on him. Not to mention anyone who gets close to me seems to die an unfortunate and early death. Remember Ron? Sirius, Remus…Hermione_.

His distant, yet polite mask fell in place again and he got up. His clothes were wrinkled and slightly smelly.

Harry vaguely remembered Remy saying something about a bathroom. He opened his trunk and grabbed some more of his expensive new clothes from the clothing compartment. He then headed to one of the three doors in the room. One led to a closet, the other to a simple, if large, bathroom. He assumed the last opened to the main room.

The bathroom was nice, with a large tub, separate shower, toilet, and double sink, all done in tones of black and ivory. Turning on the shower, he looked around to make sure there were towels and soap. There were so he got in, hissing at the warm water hitting his slightly stiff muscles. Harry wondered how long he had slept while soaping himself up. In fact, he wondered so hard, he missed the opening of the other connecting door and subsequent entrance of a very sleepy Cajun.

But he was not so deeply in thought that he missed the "_Merde_!" that issued from said Cajun's mouth when he realized that he had forgotten his new 'attic-mate' and had continued with his half-awake morning rituals.

The sleepy X-man stumbled out of the bathroom again, leaving a blushing Harry, who had stuck his head out from behind the shower curtain, more than a bit amused. The other man's cheeks were tinged red as well and he was cussing fluently in French.

He finished up his shower and dressed before tapping on Remy's door.

"Remy? I'm done."

Harry smiled though he knew Remy would not be able to see it.

"I really don't mind you stepping in while I was in the shower. I lived in a dorm with four other guys for four years."

Remy opened the door sheepishly. "_Je suis désolé. _Remy forgot y' be roomin' up here. Not much good wit'out _mon café_."

Harry half-smiled. "I understand. What time is it?"

Remy glanced back into his room at the glowing clock. "6:30. Remy thought y' might be hungry an' set de alarm for 6:00 so Remy could wake y' up."

Harry frowned. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"Almos' 20 hours. It's de morning' o' de next day by yo' reckonin'"

The other man's eye brows shot up. "That's unusual. I never sleep that long unless I'm hurt or something." He looked at Remy, taking in the pajama bottoms and wife beater. "Anyway, I'll leave to your shower shall I?" He turned to go only to find Remy's hand on his shoulder.

"An' Remy bring y' down t' breakfast soon as Remy finishes, oui?"

Harry blushed a bit. "Ou- I mean yeah, sure." He ran a hand through his longish hair and hurried out.

Remy smirked and grabbed his clothes for the day.

oOo

Harry closed the door behind him and sighed. Remy was…Well Harry wasn't sure what he was but he knew that the Cajun mutant was nearly irresistible.

_I need something to distract myself. _His eyes lit upon his trunk and he remember the goodbye presents Snape had stuffed into his arms. He had ignored the packages while in NYC and now seemed a good time to open them.

He went over and took them out, holding them carefully. He set the larger of the two down and focused on the other.

It was labeled 'To: Harry. Use it wisely' Harry snorted. It was definitely from Dumbledore. He untied the strings and pulled away the brown paper, shaking out a folded garment of some sort.

Standing up with it, he caught his breath. It was a beautiful overcoat, made of the finest black dragon hide available. Magically enhanced pockets made sure he could place nearly anything he need for emergencies within the coat. Harry could feel the temperature charms that would keep him cool or warm depending on his need, and the charms for indestructibility and even a few for keeping it clean.

And the most magnificent feature was the embroidered phoenix wrapping around the coat that seemed almost _alive_. "Brilliant." whispered Harry.

Even though he had bought many things on his shopping trip in NYC, this topped them all. He could feel the personal brand of Dumbledore's magic woven into the coat, a gift of protection and practicality yet branded by beauty. Harry was in awe.

He turned with some difficulty to the other package. It was the bigger one, bulkier and more mysterious.

After putting down the first gift on his bed, he opened the other and promptly dropped his jaw. It had been under a shrinking charm and dazedly, Harry waved his hand over it, canceling the spell.

Gleaming black and silver, a brand new motorcycle sat proudly in the middle of his room. It was _beautiful_.

A note was stuck to the handle bars.

'Potter- you will need transportation while in the US. I hope this will suffice. I remember you briefly mentioning you had learned to ride these contraptions from one of your instructors. It is a Boulevard M109R, a machine that an acquaintance of mine recommended. I've added some extra features that might be useful. Try not to fall off and break your neck- S. Snape'

It was short, not entirely sweet, and to the point. Classic Snape. Harry missed both the crotchety Potions Master and amiable Headmaster fiercely for a moment, before shoving the pain down. He would write them soon, he vowed, and thank them for the wonderful gifts.

He recast the shrinking spell and watched the bike become toy sized. He then placed it in one of the pockets of his new overcoat and banished the mess of wrapping paper from the room. Shortly after spelling the room clean and the bed made, Harry's sensitive hearing hear the shower shut off and Remy step out.

A few short minutes later a knock sounded on Harry's door and Remy's deep, accented voice called out, "Ready?"

Harry took a breath and nodded to himself. He was ready.

oOo

As he was in the shower, Remy thought hard about Harry Potter. He knew almost nothing about the young man but that was not what bothered him.

One thing not many people knew or chose to remember about Remy LeBeau was his gift of empathy. He could, when not shielding, sense the emotions of others. It was like a scent, crushed chili peppers for anger, tart lemons for bitterness, chocolate for lust, sweet vanilla for happiness…

But all Remy could 'scent' near Harry was his Allure Homme cologne and, under that, the smell of his sweet skin. Alluring indeed. But there was no emotion that Remy could pick up, which was very strange indeed.

_Remy will get t' de bottom o' this _

He quickly finished and headed out to Harry.

oOo

They headed to the same elevator as last night, with a considerably more aware Harry glancing around, trying to take in everything.

Thick carpets made walking a pleasure, oak finishing tapered the tasteful wall paper, and comfortable furniture was scattered all around. On the main level they passed by rooms that had brass plaques with the names of classes but it was summer and they were not in session at the moment, Remy explained. There was a T.V. room near the kitchen with a few younger students immersed in cartoons and numerous doors along the hallways that were closed.

Remy finally stopped in front of the kitchen, waving an arm and letting Harry step in first.

It was bright and clean, well lit and stocked, with marble counters and an island table that proved to be occupied by one other this morning.

Remy nodded to the other occupant of the kitchen and went about making coffee, not receiving, nor even expecting a response from the other man, who was hunched over the last dregs of the previous pot.

Harry on the other hand, stared curiously. The man was not terribly large, at least height wise, but he exuded a dangerous aura. His hair was a very dark brown and clipped wildly, covering his bent face. Harry shrugged and subtly wriggled his fingers, a cup of desperately needed and highly caffeinated black tea appearing in his hand.

The man had been still, but suddenly and violently sat up, surprising Harry, who had sat down on the other end of the island. He was ruggedly handsome, with the shadow of a beard dusting his face and a sneer in place. He seemed to sniff the air.

A growl sounded throughout the kitchen. Harry gripped his cup of tea harder.

A hoarse voice asked. "Who's the kid?"

Remy turned to the island. "Ah. _Bonjour _Wolverine. Dis be Harry, de newest addition t' de mansion."

Wolverine growled again.

"He smell's…_unnatural_."

Remy looked amused as he sat down with his coffee. "Remy can vouch personally fo' his bathin' habits." He turned to Harry. "Dis charmer be Logan, Wolverine t' de X-men."

Harry was perturbed at the other man's reaction but, seeing Remy take it all in stride, put his tea down and held out his hand.

"Logan, it's nice to meet you."

Logan looked at the appendage as one might look at rotten fish, instead addressing Remy again.

"He one of your fuck buddies Cajun?"

Harry stiffened, dropping his hand and Remy frowned. It was Harry who spoke, voice calm and cold.

"I just got here yesterday. The professor has agreed to help me with my powers," speaking to Remy now without taking his eyes off the feral Wolverine, he added. "Remy I think I'll skip breakfast. I'll head to my room for a bit."

He rose and nodded to them both, before turning away to leave.

Logan stood up.

"Just wait one damn second bub. I don't like your attitude. "

Harry turned again eyes as cold as voice had been. "You're one to talk."

Snikt.

Three adamantium claws popped out of Logan's hand.

Harry looked at them briefly, face betraying no surprise, before returning his gaze to Logan's face.

"Logan!" A new voice joined the mix.

Harry spared a glance to the kitchen entrance. A beautiful, petite woman wearing gloves stood there, arms crossed and glaring at Logan. Her reddish-brown hair was darker than Remy's and her bangs were streaked, much like Harry's, white. At her side was another mutant, a very handsome blonde man with light blue eyes. And wings.

The last fascinated Harry. They were huge, over seven feet tall, and thick with fluffy, white feathers.

_Can he fly with them? _

Harry loved to fly with not only his broom but also his phoenix wings. There was a terrible amount of freedom in flying and Harry thought that if he had a pair of wings in his human form, he couldn't be trusted to keep himself indoors and on the ground.

He nearly missed the ensuing lecture. A southern accent punctuated the air with accusing words. "Ah come down here fo' a cuppa coffee and I find _you_ tryin' ta start a fight at th' breakfast table!?"

Logan was still tense but managed to try and explain himself to the angry, pre-coffee woman. "Remy brought home some sorta boy toy who…"

"Logan! This is Harry Potter, th' newest student of th' professor's. He's just come inta his powers and the professor agreed ta help him." Her eye twitched. "AND YOU'D KNOW THIS ALREADY IF YOU EVER CAME TO THE BRIEFINGS! He explained it all last night!"

Logan, looking what might have been cowed on a lesser man, retracted his claws and sat down, mumbling unintelligibly about briefings and strange brits.

Harry was beyond bemused when the woman turned to him and held out a hand, smiling sheepishly. "Hey there Sugah. Sorry about th' grouchy one. He'll feel better after some breakfast but he's too lazy ta cook it." There was a grunt that could have been anger or amusement.

" Mah name's Rouge."

Harry took her hand and shook it. She had a firm, friendly grip, though Harry wondered about the silk opera gloves this early in the morning and combined with pajamas.

She released his hand and gestured to the man behind her. "And this is mah fiancé, Warren Worthington. We call him Angel." She looked at him lovingly. Harry shook his hand as well.

When Harry looked hesitant as to whether or not to sit down, Rouge waved him over to the island once more.

"Come on, Ah'll make sure the Wolverine don't bite."

They all took a seat again, excluding Angel who poured some of the left over coffee Remy had made into a mug for Rouge and then began to take out ingredients for omelets.

Rouge accepted the mug and beamed, saying happily, "An angel."

The being in speaking blushed an altogether human shade of pink while Wolverine snorted and Remy said teasingly, "Hey now, it be Remy who made de coffee!"

Rouge snorted in a Wolverine-like manner.

"Might be so, but Remy you're a devil through n' through!"

She turned to Harry and smiled kindly. "Welcome to the mansion. Did you come from England recently?"

Finishing up his tea, which he had reheated with a silent spell, Harry replied, "Yeah, just a week ago. Spent some time in NYC, shopping and such."

Rouge hummed into her coffee enviously. "Mmm. Ah love th' city but Ah don't get ta go there as much as Ah'd like ta. Where did you stay?

The two of them chatted amicably as the caffeine kicked in and Angel made breakfast.

As they ate, the conversation turned to powers.

Angel revealed his first. "My wings appeared when I was just a boy and they grew with me. Now my eyesight is better than a normal human's and I heal faster and can carry more weight."

Rouge went next. "When mah skin touches another's, Ah get their memories, thoughts, powers, even personalities. Ah can control it when Ah concentrate like crazy but sometimes it gets outta hand. That's why Ah wear these gloves." Her eyes were sad at the end of her description but they cleared quickly. "The professor helped me a lot though and hopefully Ah'll get more control."

She looked to Wolverine and said pointedly, "Logan?"

Logan looked up from his omelet and burped. "I have claws and don't need band-aids."

Rouge rolled her eyes. "Logan has very sharp senses, accelerated healing powers, an adamantium enforced skeleton, and three claws on each of his hands. He also has nearly super human rudeness."

Remy grinned. "Remy makes tings go boom." Before Rouge could butt in and give her version of his 'powers', he hurried on to say, "Remy charges tings wit' kinetic energy an' dey blow up." Satisfied , Rouge took a sip of her second cup of coffee, courtesy of her Angel.

Harry spoke softly. "I came into my powers less than two weeks ago. I heal very fast and my senses have sharpened greatly." He continued even softer, voice worried. "And… there's something else that I haven't quite figured out yet."

They were all quiet until Logan said gruffly, "The professor's good at figuring that kind of stuff out." It was said in a not unkind manner and as close to a peace offering that the Wolverine would ever give.

Harry smiled at him and sipped his tea.

TBC…

_Sneak Peek_

**Chapter 6**

After breakfast, Rouge and Harry cleared the table. Logan, who was drinking his fourth cup of coffee, suddenly blanked out, brown eyes unfocused for a moment. Then he shook his head, muttered, "I hate it when you do that Chuck." The others looked at him curiously and he explained.

"That was the professor. He wanted me to see if Harry would be ok for a romp in the Danger Room." He looked at Harry and smirked wickedly. "If you agree, he says for me and Stormy to test you in defending yourself."

**Translations**

_Merde- shit _

_Je suis désolé- I'm sorry_

_mon café- my coffee_


	6. Chapter 6

-1**This chapter is a bit shorter than normal but I thought it was a good place to stop. I have a bit of the next one already written and coming up soon!**

Thank You To…

Shinigami's Shadow- lol…you are such a loyal reviewer! Thank you!!

MomoTessen- hey there fan girl…seriously you give me the BEST ideas…flying Harry and Angel coming right up!

Amai-Leid

Semper Paratis!

SuperDamage

Kagedfox

Bellashade

BOOMrobotdog- me too!

Momocolady

achillies-eel

AnimeConPhotoWhore

Chirstina19

TweetyHope

AngsterGangster

HarrySirius Fan

Ladyfoxfire

Ladyroo88- Thanks!

Sable2684

Angelkitty77- Thanks!

Elfanyan

Christina-Marie-35

Meany

Lina03

Vairetwilight

Otspock  
BloodyLonesome89

CatWriter

NumbersDemon- I didn't even notice that! - - ; thanks!

Lisaly75- Thanks for that! Ya I have to really fight spell check for some of the names and slang. And sometimes it changes things without me knowing…Grrr Anyhoo I'm on it!

Rosefighter-**He was anti-social before the shock of his new powers…now he is more outwardly sociable…going through the motions of life but trying not to **_**feel **_**anything. **Thanks for the review!

Loony Dagda- It is a contrast isn't it? And very very soon shall his power be revealed… cue dramatic music

BloodyAngel93-really blush thanks!

Sable2684- I think you're the only one who got it! Kudos for you!!

PirateCaptainBo- Glad ya like! No Harry _is_ blocking Remy's empathy. How?…it shall be revealed! Eventually. Nope Xavier has no idea. Have you ever seen the movies? Where Jean Grey goes psycho and becomes phoenix and the power is crazy intense? Ya she's a level 5 mutant. Harry is a level 8. Time sphere wise- umm I have NO idea honestly…I might decide later or just bumble along making my own time line. Thanks for the review!

Fire of the Lioness- Thanks!

Kimpatsu no Hoseki- I'm updating as fast as I can :") thanks for the review

Quiditch-What a Wonderful Word- Danke!

Chapter 6

After breakfast, Rogue and Harry cleared the table. Logan, who was drinking his fourth cup of coffee, suddenly blanked out, brown eyes unfocused for a moment. Then he shook his head, muttered, "I hate it when you do that Chuck." The others looked at him curiously and he explained.

"That was the professor. He wanted me to see if Harry would be ok for a romp in the Danger Room." He looked at Harry and smirked wickedly. "If you agree, he says for me and Stormy to test you in defending yourself."

Harry's brow scrunched. "Pardon. Defending myself?"

"Yeah, our training room is called the Danger Room. It can make holographic situations to test your skills in using your powers to protect yourself."

Harry looked unsure. "I-I don't think I…" Wolverine looked stern. "Kid, you have to face your powers eventually."

"That's not the problem." Harry paused before continuing. "A year ago, I was fighting in what would be called, if it wasn't highly covered up, a civil war. I'm still hair triggered."

He had the entire kitchen's attention. Angel asked him cautiously, "Have there been any martial situations in Great Britain recently?"

Harry sighed. "It's complicated. Way under the normal government's radar though you might have heard of the terrorist attacks about three years ago? That was part of it."

They were all quiet again. Harry sighed again, this time in resignation. "If you can promise not to throw anything too violent at me yet, I'll come with you."

"Y' know y' don have t' do anyting y' don wan? It was Remy who spoke up now, concerned for him.

Harry grimaced. "It's something I have to do I suppose." He looked at Wolverine. "Ready then?"

Wolverine grunted and swilled the last of his coffee before standing. "Let's go."

oOo

Waiting for them outside a metal door marked with an 'X' was yet another beautiful mutant. Chocolate skin was framed by snow white hair and her doe brown eyes were kind, making her even more attractive. She was incredibly shapely and every curve was hugged by a tight black material to which was attached a black cape rimmed in yellow.

"Storm," acknowledged Wolverine.

"Good morning Logan." Storm looked to Harry. "You must be Harry Potter. My name is Ororo Munroe. I go by the codename Storm." Her voice was soothing and low.

She smiled at Harry and he half smiled back.

Looking appraisingly at his outfit of formal slacks and a linen shirt, she motioned to a door close to the metal one. "Let's get you outfitted."

While Logan, Remy, Angel, and Rogue went ahead to the Danger Room, Storm led him into what turned out to be a locker room and handed Harry a pair of black and grey sweatpants, a black t-shirt, and showed him were he could pick out socks and boots.

After he had changed in the privacy of a stall, they returned to the metal door.

Storm paused outside the door. "We just want a preliminary test of your powers and skills. It won't get above a certain level of difficultly and if at any time you want to stop, just say, 'terminate program' all right?" At Harry's stiff nod, she reached out to touch his shoulder in reassurance, only to be met by a flinch. She frowned. "Harry perhaps this is too soon…"

He steadied himself and looked at her seriously. "No it's fine. I'm ready."

The door opened then and it was time for Harry's introduction to the Danger Room.

He entered alone, walking carefully, not sure what to expect; he was only very vaguely aware of what a hologram was. The room itself was not terribly large, but completely metal from what Harry could see.

A sudden blast of a laser that he only just missed getting hit by took him off guard. His whole body tensed as the reddish beam of light passed by him to hit the ground harmlessly. It reminded him all together too much of a reducto. Two more beams came at him, the same color and as Harry dodged them he traced the source; a giant, circular contraption with what seemed to be an oversized gun barrel attached to one wall.

_Objective: take out origin of the lasers. _But how? _I don't want to use my magic yet in front of them and I _know _they are watching. _The lasers were gaining speed. _I can sense where they come from and dodge them but what do I have to take them out. _The answer was nothing. As he moved back and forth, weaving between blasts, Harry begun to get frustrated. A laser clipped him on the shoulder, leaving a slight stinging sensation before Harry's body healed it. The slight pain set him off however.

_Bloody Yanks and their damned Danger Room. _Unbeknownst to him, his eyes began to glow a lime green, anger warring with the instinct to lash out. As three more lasers rapidly caught him in various places, Harry began to lose control. It was too much like getting hit by stinging hexes by bored death eaters. Too much like being helpless, though in reality, Harry was far from it. But with his self placed restraint left him between a rock and a hard place. He couldn't dodge forever and the blasts were getting faster.

"Logan maybe that's enough for his first time?" Storm was worried. She could see from the control hub that Harry's control was slipping. Logan grunted and slapped the button that would halt the sequence before turning to exit the hub and enter the Danger Room.

Harry was panting, having yet to recover his physical prowess he had been famous for during the early years of the war. He was wiped after only fifteen minutes

When Logan came at him determinedly all he could think was, _Well fuck._

A punch flew straight to has face. Harry blocked it and then the next one aimed lower. They weren't terribly powerful blows but they were coming faster and faster, much like the lasers had been.

Harry had been very proficient in the martial arts but his condition had deteriorated and with it his stamina. He could barely meet Logan's movements. And it made him mad.

His eyes kept their lime sheen and the glow in them strengthened. When Logan began to speak it was the lost straw.

"What's the matter kid? Never fought for your life before?" Punch. "What was all that talk about fighting in a 'civil war'? The tone was sneering, reminiscent of Snape at his snarky best. Another two jabs. "You're weak." Harry faltered and a punch to his head unexpectedly connected. Logan backed off but it was too late.

'_You're weak Potter.'_ _A glancing blow of a gloved fist catches his head. 'A disgrace to wizarding kind. You have power but use it in defense of Mudbloods and Blood Traitors.'_

_The hand hovers over his cheek. _

'_Ah well. At least _this _one will be dead soon.' _

Harry snapped.

A rush of power blasted Logan into the metal wall, his very body manipulated into flight towards the wall. He hit it and watched winded as the metal came alive to bind his limbs, then come up to cover his entire body, moving as if liquid, rapid and fluid. He struggled but couldn't loosen him self. It was unlike Magneto's ability to manipulate metal. Harry somehow called for the metal to act in distinctly un-metal like.

The other X-men watched in fascination and trepidation from the control room. _'Professor! We need you in the Danger Room.' _Storm broadcasted her call, hoping the telepath could 'hear' her. _'I'm on my way Ororo.'_

They rushed out of the control room, intent on calming Harry down and rescuing Logan.

"Harry, Harry!" Rogue tried first, running toward him. She was swept up in an invisible wind, held high by the buffeting air.

"Whoa!"

Her body floated gently but insistently, bobbing up and down and kept a good distance away from Harry, who had his eyes closed and hands clamped over his ears, struggling with the power that was so new to him and the rage that was so familiar.

Angel took flight overhead, sweeping down to try and grasp Harry from behind. He was interrupted by the very air, which seemed to thicken around him until he felt as if he was stuck in cement, immobile and no longer a threat to Harry.

Storm called up a strong wind to try and knock Harry over, the gale sweeping through the danger room. Remy stood next to her, ready to try to shake Harry from his rage if Storm failed.

The wind reached Harry and _turned, _under Harry's control, blasting the two standing X-men into the wall.

Storm was flabbergasted for a moment before realizing the metal covering Logan had reached his neck. They had to work quickly.

Righting herself and stepping forward, she summoned a cold rain in hopes of shocking Harry into his senses. It fell over him but never touched his head, instead collecting and swirling into a long stream of water which rushed back to surround Storm in a double helix pattern, moving fast and effectively trapping her.

The last X-man thought quickly and fiercely of what to do before springing into action. _Guess it be Remy's turn. _

Remy extended his bo staff while charging a few cards with enough energy to hopefully distract Harry without hurting him, giving Remy the chance to approach and knock him out. He threw the cards at a run and prepared himself for attack.

oOo

_Oh Merlin_, thought Harry.

He had realized the need to control his rage almost as soon as it had struck but it was too late. His power had swelled in response and swept through him and Harry was lost in it, in the power and the anger.

He now knew what that _something_ had been. Harry recalled the word he had used before, with Dumbledore and Snape, when he had first realized that he had something boiling within him. 'Wicked'.

Harry felt everything around him. _Everything_. And that everything called to him, begging him to control it, offering itself for his use.

It was malleable, pliable, ductile.

He had wanted Logan away from him, restrained. The metal in the walls rushed to his bidding.

Rogue and Angel were coming at him but the very air molecules had held them.

The water and wind Storm had seemingly conjured, _maybe she was a witch?, _had cried out at going against him and had instead given Harry reign over them.

It was power.

It was complete.

It was frightening.

And it was _Harry's_

He dimly registered glowing cards flying at him, charged with energy. Harry vaguely thought about stopping them and his power flowed through the paper and leeched the charge from them, the paper falling limply to the ground. And then there was Remy, beautiful eyes narrowed in concentration, rushing at him.

_Stop Remy. _Harry felt dimly upset that the man he had so admired was attempting to attack him.

Remy's body literally stopped. His eyes were confused and frightened but his body was still.

Harry felt dizzy.

_Oh Merlin._

TBC…

oOo

Sneak Peek

Chapter 7

Fingering the bracelet clasped around his wrist, Harry swallowed roughly and asked, "Are you-are you certain?"

Charles was very serious as he said, "Quite frankly, no. I have hopes that it will mute your powers for sometime but in all honestly, I have never seen anyone with your level of power. Type, yes, but your ability encompasses everything and anything they could ever do." His eyes were keen and sad at the same time. "I once had a student who was very dear to me, a telepath. Her power was phenomenal but too much for her. A separate entity, drunk with power, was created within her mind, an entity I foolishly locked away, hoping to leave her uncorrupted by it. But eventually the barrier broke and she was lost to us." There was more to the story but it was left unsaid.

Charles sighed. " I had this created by a fellow mutant, a technological genius, in hopes that if ever I came across a mutant struggling as my student did, a temporary solution could be found. It suppresses powers but it was created for a level 5 mutant. You are a level 8." Charles looked at him, more solemn and serious than ever.

"And there is something you are not telling us. Something that Logan smelled and decided was 'unnatural'."

Harry's mouth was dry.

"Do you think you could trust us with your secret?"

oOo

Wrings hands So what do you all think?

Thanks to every single one of you fantastic readers! And hugs (from Remy and Harry :") to those who take the time to review!

I love your ideas and comments sooo much


	7. Chapter 7

-1

Thank You To…

Shinigami's Shadow- yup yup…

MomoTessen

Amai-Leid

Semper Paratis!

SuperDamage

Kagedfox

Bellashade

BOOMrobotdog

Momocolady

achillies-eel

AnimeConPhotoWhore- I have to agree 'twas weird…but then Harry is far from normal …and not to worry more will be revealed about his powers

Chirstina19

TweetyHope

AngsterGangster

HarrySirius Fan

Ladyfoxfire

Ladyroo88- lol… can you imagine a harry/remy sandwich hug! :")

Sable2684

Angelkitty77- ya he is more powerful…much much more powerful not only in mutant strength but also the fact that he has magic on the side

Elfanyan- blush thank you! We'll see about magneto…can you imagine Harry's reaction to another power hungry, blood-obsessed terrorist? It has potential

Christina-Marie-35

Meany

Lina03

Vairetwilight

Otspock  
BloodyLonesome89

CatWriter

NumbersDemon

Lisaly75- you're welcome!

Rosefighter

Loony Dagda

BloodyAngel93- he doesn't know it yet but he likes Remy…really really likes him

Sable2684

PirateCaptainBo- to answer your question…none I think! I made it up…I wanted him to be more powerful than Jean and eight is a nice number.

Fire of the Lioness

Kimpatsu no Hoseki- Thank you!

Quiditch-What a Wonderful Word

Chinese Artist-Thanks!

Joey-Umm I like it this way…thanks for the input though

Laica-27- thank you!

JackleAndFangirl67- I love them too!

**Thanks to MomoTessen for the magic trick idea! **

And now….

Chapter 7

"Harry stop." A masculine voice, deep and commanding pierced through the fog that his powers had cast over Harry's brain. He recognized that voice didn't he?

It sounded again, something compelling about it, catching his buried attention.

A probe touched his mind, a firm touch that reminded him of Professor Dumbledore. It could not get past his mental defenses but Harry could feel the projected message, as though someone were shouting over the wall of a fortress.

There was concern and a touch of apprehension, but also, understanding? Harry wondered at the last, enough to make him drop his defenses a bit more. A calm mind met his, and showed him the situation from its viewpoint. And Harry was horrified.

All of the X-men in the room were incapacitated and Logan…the metal had completely covered him, excluding only his eyes which where panicked.

Harry wailed within his mind. _No, no, no, no, no. I hurt them, I fucking hurt them. _

His hands which had covered his ears dropped and his eyes opened to see for himself. _No, no, no, no…_

He suddenly, instinctively, clapped twice. The metal flowed away from Logan who collapsed to the ground gasping for breath. The air around Angle thinned and he flapped his wings at the sudden release, gliding to the ground. Rogue was gently lowered down and the water holding Storm captive flowed away. And Remy dropped as his muscles suddenly relaxed.

Harry fell to his knees, arms dangling. He whispered, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so-"

He was interrupted by Logan of all people, who had recovered enough to growl out, "That's exactly what we wanted to see." He nodded to the Professor who had come to the Danger Room. "Chuck warned me that you were powerful." His eyes bore into Harry's now. "I provoked you kid, so don't blame yourself."

He continued. "You didn't know your powers and sometimes attack will make 'em show up."

He grinned with a dry humor that Harry, if he wasn't so shell shocked, might appreciate. "Of course, they are usually a hell of a lot weaker because they have no idea how to use 'em."

Harry made a noise that sounded like a whimper.

"I-I _don't _now how to use them," he whispered, "I'm not in control and even now everything is- I can feel _everything_."

Logan looked sympathetic and haunted, even coming up to pat Harry on the back and lift him up from his knees.

"I know kid, you're a loaded gun with a fucking shit load of ammo. Just like Jeanie was." He looked to the professor. " Got any ideas Chuck?"

Charles seemed pensive but responded, "Yes, actually I have something that might do for the moment. X-men, go ahead and clean up. Harry would you come with me for a moment?" Harry nodded numbly and they left together.

oOo

They were quite as they headed to the elevator.

Once inside, the professor bypassed the numbers on the casing and moved down to press a thumb to scanning device. The lift went down past the main level and the basement. When they got off, it was at a level that was not marked on the elevator.

It was as if for a normal visitor, it wasn't supposed to exist. The professor confirmed Harry's thoughts a moment later by saying, "The students generally don't know about this level of the mansion until they become X-men or an emergency requires the most secure shelter available."

They headed down a short hallway flooded with bright lights. Bright metal walls and clean linoleum were interrupted by a few doors, none of which were open. They reached one door, unremarkable in comparison to the others and it slid open.

Entering Harry's eyes were met by darkness. By the time they adjusted, Charles had already approached a wall and pressed a thumb to another scanning device, letting a deep, low drawer slide smoothly out.

Inside a thin, silver bracelet lay, a single bead attaching the ends in a seamless circle.

Lifting it out, the older man handed it to Harry.

"This is a power suppressant. Once activated, it restricts mutant abilities. It might help you as we begin to teach you to control and understand your powers."

Examining the piece of jewelry, Harry was filled with a type of nervous expectancy. _Merlin, I hope this works._

Harry fumbled with it until he figured out that the bead that held the two ends together was also a screw and the key to opening the bracelet. He put it on and fumbled again to close it.

Fingering the bracelet clasped around his wrist, Harry swallowed roughly and asked, "Are you-are you certain this will work?"

Charles was very serious as he said, "Quite frankly, no. I have hopes that it will mute your powers for sometime but in all honestly, I have never seen anyone with your level of power. Type, yes, but your ability encompasses everything and anything they could ever do." His eyes were keen and sad at the same time.

"I once had a student who was very dear to me, a telepath. Her power was phenomenal but too much for her. A separate entity, drunk with power, was created within her mind, an entity I foolishly locked away, hoping to leave her uncorrupted by it. But eventually the barrier broke and she was lost to us."

There was more to the story but it was left unsaid.

Charles sighed. " I had this created by a fellow mutant, a technological genius, in hopes that if ever I came across a mutant struggling as my student did, a temporary solution could be found. It suppresses powers but it was created for a level 5 mutant. You are a level 8 according to Cerebro, quite possibly the most powerful mutant ever seen."

Charles looked at him, more solemn and serious than ever.

"And there is something you are not telling us. Something that Logan smelled and decided was 'unnatural'."

Harry's mouth was dry.

"Do you think you could trust us with your secret?"

Harry closed his eyes briefly before opening them.

"This will sound crazy…Do you believe in magic?

oOo

"Y' want t' learn a magic trick?"

Harry started.

This was the last person he expected to come and seek him out. Harry was on the roof of the mansion, perched outside the window of his room and curled up in a little ball. No matter what Logan or the Professor said to him, _he_ could not forgive his lack of control. It plagued him and led to hiding away from everyone in the mansion, playing with his new bracelet.

That voice spoke again, as a tall figure came to sit next to the Harry.

"Remy knows a good one. Here, pick a card." He flourished a hand of cards.

Harry hesitantly took a random card. "S'ok, de cards not gonna bite." White teeth flashed. "An' Remy didn' charge 'em." Harry thought briefly on the many games of exploding snap he had played with Ron. Between those and the glowing ones he remembered vaguely from the Danger Room session, he was more used to the exploding variety than the non. He then mentally smiled. He couldn't wait to see what 'magic' Remy came up with.

Remy shuffled the cards and asked Harry to replace his card. He then shuffled them a few times and made a quick movement with his hands, the cards flying in an arc from his left hand to his right. The cards disappeared the moment they touched his half gloved palm, until there were none left.

Harry was startled into a laugh. "Weren't you supposed to fish out the card I chose?"

Remy looked affronted as he lifted his head from the miniature bow he had finished his magic trick with. "Dat be an amateur's trick. Remy made de cards disappear _avec la magie seul_. In fact," He made an exaggerated wink, "Feel free t' search Remy, head t' toe!" He lifted his arms invitingly.

Harry laughed again. Remy just grinned then pouted, "_Non? C'est votre perte." _

Harry's laughter eventually died after a minute or so and silence reigned.

In the lack of outrageous flirting and mirth, Harry's dark thoughts came to the surface once more.

It came out of no where and caught the brooding Harry by surprise.

"It be ok, y'know?"

Harry was very still, the levity of the moment completely gone.

"When Remy first used his powers, he blew his Tante's kitchen up."

Harry grimaced. "I bet you never half killed someone by suffocating them in living metal."

Remy cheerfully chuckled. "_Non, mon ange_, can' say Remy has. But y' know dat de Wolverine, he be fine? He been shot in de head, a'gin n' a'gin, and he be still kickin'. Remy don' tink y' be de one t' kill de grumpy bastard."

Harry reluctantly grinned but it quickly disappeared as he remembered something.

"Aren't you afraid of me? I mean, I stopped your entire body with a single thought!"

Remy was quiet for a long moment.

"Remy be lyin if he say he wasn' a bit scared at de time." His face was very serious as he rested a hand on Harry's face. "But Remy knows dat y' be a good person an' even if y' lost y'self for a moment in de rush o' a new power, y' still dat good person." He grinned a happy smirk.

"An' nothing' gonna stop Remy from getting' t' know y' better, _Ange_."

Harry blushed violently but was filled with a great sense of relief. He grasped Remy's hand that was still on his face in gratitude and looked down.

"Thanks."

oOo

Remy convinced Harry to come to dinner, pointing out that regardless 'o' de drama', it was Harry's first day (conscious) at the mansion and everyone was eager to meet him.

They headed to the dining room were a feast of Chinese takeout was waiting for them.

An odd group sat munching happily and talking loudly. They all fell silent when Harry and Remy walked through the door. Angel, Rogue, and Storm stood and came to meet them, reassuring Harry that there was no damage done and no hard feelings. Harry blushed and wondered at their easy going attitudes but was left all the same with a warm sense of relief that his new (colleagues? Fellow mutants? Friends? Harry wasn't sure what to think of them as) did not hold his lapse in control against him. Logan grunted a greeting from where he was sitting, next to a short Asian girl with cropped black hair and a lurid yellow overcoat.

Remy introduced him to the room at large.

"X-men, Remy be proud t' present Harry Potter, newest addition t' de mansion."

He then pointed to each person sitting around the table.

"Dat be Kurt, de Knightcrawler o'de X-men." A blue man with a tail and pointed ears grinned at him and said politely, " _Guten Abend_."

"An' dat _fille_ in de blindin' yellow jacket be Jubilation Lee, aka Jubilee."

Chopsticks waved wildly in greeting, while a glare was sent to Remy for daring to comment on her beloved jacket. "Y' know Storm, Rogue, Beast, Angel, n' Logan. Dat _fille_ wit de pink cardigan be Kitty Pryde o' rather, Shadowcat. Peter Rasputin, Colossus, is next t' her." The couple nodded to him.

"De rugrats not here fo' de summer. They gone t' Scotland t' spen' some time wit a collegue o' de Professor."

Ushering Harry to a seat, Remy served up a plate of food and handed it to him, along with a pair of chopsticks.

Harry looked awkwardly at the food before gingerly picking up the sticks and trying to poke at a piece of orange chicken.

Jubilee laughed kindly. "Not familiar with chopsticks?"

Harry blushed a bit before saying softly, "No, I've never really had the chance to eat Chinese food."

"Never!?"

She made a mock-indignant face before beginning a thorough tutorial on the foods and how to eat them. Gradually Harry relaxed and the talk at the table started up again.

Before long, Harry was munching on his orange chicken and listening to Kitty chatter about a conference on nuclear physics she wanted to attend at NYU and Rogue and Knightcrawler argue about the who got the last egg roll.

And, for the moment at least, everything was ok.

oOo

TBC…

Sneak Peek

Chapter 8

Harry shrugged on the overcoat Dumbledore sent him and pulled on a pair of Dr. Marten's boots. Later he had his first session with the Professor but first he was going for a ride. Grabbing his toy sized bike and stuffing it in a pocket, he left his room only to run into Remy who was sitting in their common area and playing solitaire.

"Good Morning Remy." "Morning _Ange_." Harry fought a blush. From Remy's mouth, 'morning' sounded a lot like 'moaning'. He stopped his thought pattern before it could head somewhere else.

"I'm going out for a while." A lazy grin shined up at him. "Y' wan' some company?"

Harry gave up the war with his blush. "N-no that's ok." _Did I just squeak? Merlin_. Mortified, Harry rushed from the room.

**Translations **

_Mon ange _my angel

"_Non? C'est votre perte." _No? It's your loss.

…_avec la magie seul _with magic alone

_Guten Abend _good evening

_Fille _girl


	8. Chapter 8

-1NOW EDITED!

QUESTION!! Who should be the bad guy in this story? Magneto? The government? Anti-mutant evil doers? Or maybe a completely different source of badness?

Note: I won't be able to list everyone who reviews anymore but for this chapter I'll1try and get everyone on the thank you list for the last time! WOOOOOOOOT!! 112 reviews!! 221 alerts!! Over 12, 000 hits!! Tears up…thank you guys!

Thank You To…

Shinigami's Shadow

MomoTessen- My 100th reviewer!! Remy/Harry hugs for you! Lol..I was thinking more X-men canon than anything…ya know the prof had an ex-fiancé, Moira MacTaggert, who is a geneticist and works in Scotland, they remained good friends and whatnot..anyway Miur Island is like a mutant research place run by mutants

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CatWriter-so far, only the prof…on the Hedwig issue…I'll address that soon…I actually JUST got a great idea…

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Dead feather-nope Harry has got great control over his magic.

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Chapter 8

Harry shrugged on the overcoat Dumbledore sent him and pulled on a pair of Dr. Marten's boots. Later he had his first session with the Professor but first he was going for a ride. Grabbing his toy sized bike and stuffing it in a pocket, he left his room only to run into Remy who was sitting in their common area and playing solitaire.

"Good Morning Remy."

"Mornin' _Ange_."

Harry fought a blush. From Remy's mouth, 'morning' sounded a lot like 'moaning'. He stopped his thought pattern before it could head somewhere else.

"I'm going out for a while." A lazy grin shined up at him. "Y' wan' some company?"

Harry gave up the war with his blush. "N-no that's ok." _Did I just squeak? Merlin_.

Mortified, Harry rushed from the room, leaving a still grinning Remy to chuckle over his game.

Harry went to the garage of the mansion, which Remy had showed him his third day there. He could hardly believe that he had been at the mansion for a week. In some ways it seemed like much longer, in others, incredibly short.

Looking around to make sure there was no one close by, he muttered the counter to the shrinking spell, allowing his bike to grow to all its gleaming silver-black glory. Harry realized suddenly that he didn't have a helmet and looked yet again to make sure no one could be peeking before conjuring a basic enough riding helmet. It wouldn't be perfect, as Harry was far from an expert on creating helmets, but perhaps he could pick up a real one while he was out.

Just as he was about to pull it on, he heard a rumbled, "Nice bike."

He paused before saying softly, "Thank you Logan."

A grunt.

"You headed out?"

"Yes."

"…"

Harry resisted the urge to fidget. "Wait a sec alright?" Harry nodded, mystified, as Logan went into the garage and came out rolling a bike and wearing a helmet himself, the visor kicked back.

"This is my darlin', a Harley Davidson Softtail Deluxe." It was a beautiful bike, powerful and obviously well taken care of.

Harry grinned to himself, reminded of the man who had taught him to ride, a hippie American who had

doted on his collection of bikes and was famous for creating a style of dueling that favored speed.

"She's lovely." Logan nodded, accepting the response as the only right one as far as he was concerned.

Realizing that Logan meant to come along, Harry pulled on his makeshift helmet and mounted his bike.

Vroom, Vroom, VROOM!

oOo

Vroom, Vroom, VROOM!

Storm smiled serenely. "It sounds as if Logan is going out for a ride." She was weeding the vegetable garden she kept in a greenhouse near the garage. Nightcrawler was sitting on a nearby bench, reading out loud to her from a Jane Austen book. He looked up briefly, half glasses slipping.

"Nien, not just Logan. Sounds like two bikes."

"Two?"

Kurt nodded.

"I wonder-" Storm left the statement unfinished as she stood and dusted off her knees.

She glanced out the open door to see tail end of two bikes, a slim male on one, the other bearing the familiar figure of Logan.

"I think that's Harry." Her face was contemplative. "I didn't know he had a motorcycle."

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed as Ororo moved on to her herbs.

Kurt spoke up then, thoughtfully.

"Ororo, you must have noticed…he is very withdrawn. Very, not shy, but distant…very polite.

Ororo stood up and reached for her watering can.

"Yes he is. I think there is something in his past that has," she searched for an appropriate word, "crippled him, at least emotionally. Certainly he is not used to dealing with our rather rambunctious family. But beyond that…It is as if he has never learned how to interact within a family at all."

She continued to water her plants. "And sometimes, when he walks by me, I am enveloped by such a feeling of sadness that I want to curl up and cry on the spot."

Kurt replied," Yes, I know what you mean. it is enough to make me wonder if he has the gift of empathy or telepathy." The blue mutant picked up the book once more but did not begin reading.

"Perhaps we can do something for Harry to make him feel more relaxed, more welcome."

Storm was contemplative. "A fine idea. A party maybe? We have been known to throw a few good ones. Yes, a welcoming party sounds wonderful"

Kurt grinned before finding his place once more in the book and beginning to read- though not before stating, "No one throws a party like the X-men."

oOo

Harry and Logan had covered quite a few miles on the highway, with Harry admiring the scenery and not really caring where they were going. He had let Logan take the lead from the start of the ride and hadn't regretted it. This part of New York was beautiful, with rich forest and occasional wildlife. He wondered at one point if owls frequented the area which led him to think of Hedwig.

Hedwig had retired when Harry had been sixteen and in combat training with Her Majesty's Royal Army's special ops division. She had taken a reducto to the wing while trying to protect Harry during an ambush and he had sent her to Hogwarts to recover. She was still there to his knowledge, being pampered as a war hero by the newest grounds keeper. Thinking of her was bittersweet. His little friend had survived but so many hadn't.

He forced his thoughts back to the ride. Harry didn't really care if he got his helmet or not today; after all even in the event of an accident, he had the sneaking suspicion he would heal within moments.

That line of thought made him even more depressed.

He had figured out years ago the effects of his phoenix animagus form on his own lifespan but never before had he healed at the rate he did now. It seemed as if he was truly indestructible, though the marks life had seen fit to etch into his body before his twenty-first birthday remained.

Sometime Harry didn't really feel twenty-one. Days passed when he felt immeasurably old, weighted by everything he had seen and done and what had been done to him. He was old on those days, his war wounds and scars aching with memory.

Other days he felt younger than a first year, naïve and lost in a new world. He didn't know enough to get by, it felt like, and the world felt so damn big around him.

And now with these new powers…

With the restricting bracelets he was a bit more secure. The world didn't scream out quite so loudly.

Harry still didn't understand his new ability. The professor had some ideas that he wanted to share with him, but at the moment, Harry was clueless.

He thought about all this and more as they rode at a furious but not punishing pace. The bike was smooth under him and he could feel the engine thrum. He was just beginning to really enjoy the ride, his brain slowed to a more sedate swirl of thought by concentration on the rode ahead when something, a large man shaped something, slammed into Logan's bike; flipping both machine and man through the air. The only thing Harry could think of as he braked quickly was _Shit, Logan's going to be pissed. _

oOo

Professor Charles Xavier was in as deep contemplation as Harry. His thoughts were centered on the young man and the enigma he and his powers had brought to the institute.

_Magic_. Charles shook his head, fingers pressed to each other in a triangle_. If even an iota of what Harry told me is true…_And the demonstrations Harry had given were causing Charles to lean more and more in the direction of belief. That and Charles own experience with the unexpected.

He was a very open minded man, a quality he had long prided himself on maintaining. But Harry's story of a world apart, filled with wizards and witches, wands and cauldrons seemed so far fetched that even a very open minded man would be hard put not to second guess it.

But Harry had proof. A shrinking and enlarging trunk. A wand of holly that caused his desk to change into a lion. A broom that floated and was designed as carefully as a designer mountain bike might be.

Magic it appeared was real.

Having obtained permission to disclose this information about Harry to whom ever he needed to from the man in question, he wondered just who to trust with it. Hank would be a good choice; as the acting medical authority in the mansion, knowing of any extra powers was imperative. Perhaps Ororo and Logan; the later in particular had been antsy about not knowing exactly what the 'unnaturalness' that he claimed stuck to Harry's scent was. And Remy….

_No I think he would be best told by Harry himself. _

He chuckled. _You could cut the sexual tension between those two with a knife. _Though happily, there seemed to be budding affection as well. Poor Harry has been red as a tomato the entire week while Remy appeared to be stuck in a thorough imitation of the Cheshire Cat. The mansion hadn't seen a romance like this since Rogue had decided to woo Warren two years ago.

Still immersed in his amused thoughts, Charles was caught unaware by the tentative yet insistent telepathic message that he recognized as Harry's mental voice calling out to him

'_Professor something is attacking Logan!'_

Immediately he focused on opening the connection further. _'Calm down Harry. Tell me exactly what's happening.' _

A frustrated feeling reached him. _'Never mind. Here…' _

Charles could suddenly see in his mind's eye precisely what Harry could. A beige blur was growling fiercely as it pummeled Logan on the side of the road.

'_He came out of nowhere.' _Harry was anxious and ready to charge in with his magic.

'Wait!' Charles sent hurriedly. _'Logan can handle this man- his name is Sabertooth and trust me, Logna had tangled with him countless times before. I'm more worried about you at the moment. It seems like a distraction. Keep your eyes on the lookout for…' _

He was interrupted by a shimmer that caught Harry's attention. It hovered in front of a clump of fir trees and Charles could literally feel the whispered warning through Harry's mind that said danger. Seconds later, streaks of metal flew through the air to wrap around Harry, living metal that bound him in cords. _'Magneto. He controls metal.' _

That was all Charles managed to relay to the wizard before he felt Harry's mental shields, formidable and complete, shut him out as Harry shifted to battle mode.

Once again in his office and his own mind Charles hurried to contact Storm, Nightcrawler, and Gambit. He wasn't sure if Harry, with his restraints on at least, could handle the powerful mutant.

'_X-men! Harry and Wolverine have been attacked.' _

oOo

"Merde!" Remy cussed, having stood up from his third straight game of solitaire at the shock of the mental call, _'Remy knew he shoulda gone wit 'em.'_

'_Remy calm yourself. I don't know what Magneto wants, but I can guess. He had bound Harry with metal before the mental connection was cut off.' _

A thrill of anxiety came from Remy at the words. "Whadya mean, 'cut off'?"

Xavier responded quickly, _'His own defenses cut us off, he is focused entirely on battle.' _

Remy was slightly comforted but that didn't stop him from sprinting to meet Storm and Nightcrawler at the jet. He had started running at the word of Harry in danger and hadn't stopped to converse. Benefits of telepathic communication. _'We're ready Professor.'_

The thought came from Storm. They were in the Blackbird already and awaiting directions. Charles relayed the location of the attack and they were off.

oOo

Harry's eyes were light green, approaching lime as he felt the metal grip him. He had caught the tail end of Xavier's words, something about metal.

_Guess this guy controls the stuff_. The man who had followed the flying streaks of metal was tall with a shock of white hair. He was dressed in a tight fitting suit of armor that seemed to be made of some type of flexible material. Harry really didn't give a shit at the moment about who the guys was or what he was wearing though. All he was concerned with was the fact that he was squeezed uncomfortably tight by some maniac in a costume. He hated with a passion the feeling of not being able to move, of being captured and held prisoner. It brought to mind lovely memories of the time he spent with Voldemort. Suddenly the metal squeezed tighter and the maniac started to speak.

A cultured voice, arrogant and chiding asked, "I don't have your attention do I? Quite all right, I'll have it soon enough." Harry floated forward, still bound by the metal.

"I have come my dear boy, to extend to you a hand of friendship and aid." Yeah, cause nothing said friendship like squeezing a guy to death with giant metal bands.

"My name is Magneto and I want to show you how to use your power to its fullest. Xavier is weak in his belief of holding back one's true strength and weak in his love of humans. Follow me and I can show you the superiority of our kind."

Harry was pissed.

He could see the barely veiled greed in Magneto's eyes and the hunger for Harry's mutant ability. He also sounded disturbingly like a mixture of Voldemort and Draco Malfoy in his younger years. Not a pretty combination and one guaranteed to really make him mad. He could think of several things he wanted to say, many of which would bring a rosy blush even to Snape's ears if he heard ,but instead settled for, "No thanks."

He then focused his magic on the metal, vanishing them and at the same time throwing a wandless, silent stupefy at Magneto. It hit his chest and he crumpled.

"Fucking bastard."

Harry jumped. It was Wolverine.

The man was bloodied, with healing gashes littering his body and very, very angry.

"Fucking trashed my bike!" He looked at Harry, his eyes unreadable. "That didn't look like your mutation. In fact I could smell-" He was cut off by a tired Harry. "Yeah, I know, my freakishness."

It was a resigned statement and spoke volumes about his self-image.

Logan's brows scrunched together in a frown anger dissipating slowly. "Listen kid-"

This time he was cut off by the sound of a large jet landing in a nearby clearing at the side of the highway.

Magneto and Harry had been fighting under the cover of trees close to where Logan had been thrown and that was where Storm, Nightcrawler, and Gambit hurried towards. They noticed a knocked out Sabertooth, slung high in a tree, as they approached.

Nightcrawler grinned in relief when they reached the pair.

"It seems we were not needed." Gambit on the other hand pushed forward past the blue mutant to Harry's side.

"Y' a'right _Ange_?" Harry discovered he wasn't too tired to blush.

"Y-yeah I'm fine."

He should have been reassuring a noticeably worried Storm that they were fine, or perhaps questioning who Magneto was, but all Harry could think of as Remy ran his hands absent mindedly over him was 'How the bloody hell could somebody as sexy and assured as Remy be interested in _him_?' A quick mental slap later, he was back on track.

He said again more firmly, "We're fine. Right Logan?" A nod. The weather controller looked dubious. "Let's get back to the mansion. Henry can check you out."

They started to turn to collect both the bikes and their fallen enemies only to discover they had vanished.

"Shit!" A quick smack upside the head from Storm sparked a, "What?!"

"Language!" "Stormy the bastards got away!" Another smack. Grumbling Logan shut up and began trying to tracking them, mumbling about not being able to smell anything with the scent of arousal between Brit Boy and Cajun. The two blushed and started to load the bikes with the help of a chuckling Nightcrawler, who began the story of exactly who Magneto was.

oOo

TBC…

Sneak Peek

**Chapter 9**

Charles held Harry's head with a hand on each temple. His touch was light and cool. Harry felt the same mental press that he had when Charles had jolted him from his power surge and let it in to the surface layer of his psyche. The professor moved to the 'door' of Harry's mind and knocked. It swung open silently. He sent himself through and found himself in a dark library.

"Hello Professor." There was Harry, looking confused. "I thought we were going to look for answers to my powers?" Charles found himself in his normal mental form, standing on two legs and incorporeal, though not transparent. He walked to the image of Harry who was sitting on top of a desk.

"We are Harry. There is often, at the heart of a mind, a representation of one's powers. We are going to search for that." He sat down on the unused chair. "Sometimes it is on the surface of a mind. For instance a sea of fire surrounding one's thoughts , if the mutation was a control over fire. Other times, it can be buried further down, very subtle and hard to catch. In rare cases, within powerful mutants more often than not, a separate psyche can develop." He took in the very intent look on Harry's face and continued. "The power suppressants will make this a bit more difficult. We might face memories and emotions that you might prefer untouched as we look for clues. Are you willing to chance that?" Harry looked sick but he knew what he had to. "Yes, I'm willing."

"Then let's get started." He held a hand to Harry, who took it firmly. They closed their eyes and the professor sent a probe out to Harry's mind. The search for answers began.

oOo

When they opened their eyes again they were in a small, dark space. Harry immediately recognized his surroundings. It was his cupboard under the stairs…

NOTE NUMBA TWO

I don't know how many of you have read the Anita Blake Vampire Hunter novels but I'd like to recommend an X-men/Anita Blake fic that might be the best crossover I have ever read…It's all about Rogue and her experiences in St. Louis with Anita and the gang. It's excellent writing and I would recommend it to anyone who likes Rogue…there is an interesting Remy/Rogue/Asher love triangle and awesome power bursts. Anyway, the fic is called Tending by BrisketBunny and is archived at /efiction.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! *author ducks under a barrage of tomatoes* ok ok I won't list out reviewers anymore!

Sorry it's been so long!

Chapter 9

After getting the general idea of who Magneto was on the journey back to the mansion, Harry was more certain than ever that he didn't want anything to do with the metal wielding mutant. Waaay too much like old Voldie for comfort.

Even with the excitement of the day, Harry hadn't forgotten the scheduled meeting with the professor. At five o'clock, he headed to the man's office, hands sweating and body shaking slightly in trepidation.

_This is it_.

The issue of Harry's abilities had been skirted around for the last week, the proverbial pink elephant in the mansion. It was time, Harry figured, to face the music, or rather his lately developed super powers.

He fisted his hand to deliver a knock to the solid door of the professor's office, but before he even touched the wood a voice called out to him from behind it.

"Come in Harry."

Oh. Yeah. Telepath. All right then.

He entered cautiously and peered nervously at the other occupant of the room who in turn smiled kindly. "It's alright to be nervous Harry. We'll try to go about this slowly so you can adjust."

A stiff nod.

The professor wheeled himself from behind the oak desk toward the bay window where a comfortable armchair sat. He waved Harry to it and settled his chair directly across from him.

"Can you describe to me the sensation of using your power Harry?" Charles asked once they were both settled.

Harry floundered, mouth opening briefly but closing after a moment of confusion.

"I-I can't professor. I mean I can try but…It's hard to explain." He looked frustrated but continued, not willing to let down the man who wanted to help him.

Charles held Harry's head with a hand on each temple. His touch was light and cool. Harry felt the same mental press that he had when Charles had jolted him from his power surge and let it in to the surface layer of his psyche. The professor moved to the 'door' of Harry's mind and knocked. It swung open silently. He sent himself through and found himself in a dark library.

"Hello Professor." There was Harry, looking confused. "I thought we were going to look for answers to my powers?" Charles found himself in his normal mental form, standing on two legs and incorporeal, though not transparent. He walked to the image of Harry who was sitting on top of a desk.

"We are Harry. There is often, at the heart of a mind, a representation of one's powers. We are going to search for that." He moved to lean on the unused chair. "Sometimes it is on the surface of a mind. For instance, a sea of fire surrounding one's thoughts if the mutation was control over fire. Other times, it can be buried further down, very subtle and hard to catch. In rare cases, within powerful mutants more often than not, a separate psyche can develop." He took in the very intent look on Harry's face and continued. "The power suppressants will make this a bit more difficult. We might face memories and emotions that you might prefer untouched as we look for clues. Are you willing to chance that?" Harry looked sick but he knew what he had to.

"Yes, I'm willing."

"Then let's get started." He held a hand to Harry, who took it firmly. They closed their eyes and the professor sent a probe out to Harry's mind. The search for answers began.

oOo

When they opened their eyes again they were in a small, dark space. Harry immediately recognized his surroundings. It was his cupboard under the stairs.

Harry wanted to close his eyes again but resisted. He had an inkling of why his psyche had led them here. Logan's remarks about his 'unnaturalness' had hit home in his memory, bringing memories of his rather dark childhood with the Dursley's.

He realized suddenly that they were in a memory, much like the one's in a pensive, preserved and untouchable. The two of them were in the cupboard, grown men, but able to stand comfortably. There was a shuffle. Make that three of them.

He whispered a lumososity spell, something Hermione had created for him when he had complained at the inconvenience of lumos. It cast globes of light into the air above them, illuminating the scene around them. It was a heartbreaking one.

A five-year-old Harry lay on a dirty cot, his young face bruised and bloodied and silently weeping. He was positioned on his stomach, giving both the present Harry and the professor a horribly clear view of his back, where welts and cuts from a nasty beating remained.

Harry looked on, not happy with the obviousness of his abuse filled childhood but stood unashamed and decidedly less perturbed than the professor who instinctively reached to try and help the boy, only to check his movement as he realized the futility of the gesture.

.

Xavier looked at Harry, who in turn, gazed passively toward him. "Harry…" he began compassionately.

A bang interrupted him, as the cupboard door slammed open and a cruel face peeked through.

"Are you in there sniveling you freakish brat?" Of course he was, she had locked him in two days ago. "It's your own damn fault. We don't have to put up with your _unnaturalness_." The speaker, or perhaps tormenter, was female and blonde, with a horse like face and nasally voice. Her eyes shifted to and fro while she spoke and she placed special emphasis on the words freakish and unnaturalness. As far as she was concerned, the freak had brought it on himself. He was blaringly strange. Two days ago he had caused a measuring cup to float to him. She shuddered, the very thought of such shameful unnaturalness in _her _household…The only thing they could do was try to beat it out of him.

A small but clear voice replied, "No Aunt Petunia, m'not sniveling."

She grimaced. "Good because Vernon will be home soon and you need to prepare dinner. Get it done then get back into your room." Little Harry nodded, surreptitiously wiping his face with his torn and stained shirt.

The woman, Aunt Petunia, snapped as he cleared out of the tiny compartment "Get it right and without any of that freakishness. I don't want to have to clean up your mess again." The mess being the blood that he had shed. She might have made him clean that up as well except for the fact that he had passed out. After sniffing haughtily, she stalked away, leaving the child to drag himself painfully to the kitchen after carefully closing the door to the cupboard. He was without a doubt in pain but trained well. If he was lucky, and quick with his work, he'd get a bit of bread and water and a bathroom break.

Charles felt sick to his stomach, the emotions and thoughts of young Harry whispered in their minds.

"Harry?"

The wizard who had grown up from the small boy looked at him calmly.

"When I was one, I was dropped on the doorstep of my Aunt and Uncle, who hated magic, inexplicable events, anything out of the norm actually." He shrugged and stated plainly, completely angst-free, and simply.

"They were abusive."

Gently, "You never told me." Another shrug. "Doesn't really matter does it?" "It matters Harry." The professor was concerned. Perhaps Harry had dealt with his childhood, but the far more likely option was that he was stifling his emotions. And when dealing with large amounts of power, buried emotions could be dangerous block to development and control.

Before he had a chance to say anything the scene morphed. They were in the same house with an older Harry, about eight now, though he was so skinny and malnourished it was hard to tell for sure. He was scrubbing the floors of the kitchen with a harsh cleaning agent and nothing to protect his hands. The skin was bleeding in some places but Harry, under the watchful eye of a sitting Petunia, had no choice but to dip his sponge over and over again in the bucket of chemicals, trying to get the floors to her satisfaction. It would be a long, long time before that happened. In fact, Harry remembered, the only reason he had been able to cease the painful chore was when Dudley crashed in to demand food, which of course, he was to prepare. But they stayed in this memory a shorter time than the first, for reasons unknown to Harry, and it morphed once more into another scene when he was nine, and another, when he was ten.

"It's chronological," Harry murmured, "These memories that we're visiting aren't the most painful of my childhood. In fact it seems as if my subconscious is trying to get you to understand me as a person by showing you events from my formative years…" He looked thoughtful while Charles was horrified to think that these harsh scenes of child abuse hadn't been the epitome of Harry's pain. Harry took notice and smiled sadly.

"Professor I _have_ gotten past my childhood, mainly because I know that there are darker, more terrible things in the world."

He shook his head and the scene around them, the cupboard again, faded away to the library. "I think I've had enough today."

Charles nodded and pulled himself from Harry's mind, opening his eyes in his office.

Harry was already standing near the door, a question on his lips. "Same time next week?"

Studying him, the older mutant searched for something in his eyes. "Alright Harry."

oOo

Harry sighed tiredly, shutting the door behind him and walking straight into a red-eyed Cajun.

"Y'll righ' _Ange_?"

Remy was beginning to realize that worrying was an exhausting, inconvenient, and overwhelming emotion-if only he could turn the thrice damned feeling off… He couldn't however, and it led him to loitering outside the Professor's office, playing with his cards and resisting the urge to pull out his cigarettes for a quick smoke.

When Harry came out of the office a good two hours after entering it, Remy wasn't sure if he should be even more worried or relieved at the calm, if tired, face he presented.

Seeing Remy, Harry's eyes lit up. "Remy." He half grinned, looking both hopeful and delighted, and wary and confused under a carefree mask. Remy could taste the bittersweet flavor of Harry's emotions for the first time as his heart opened in an unguarded moment. "You waited for me?" "Oui." A full grin, with a whiff of fresh apples. Then nothing as Harry pulled himself together. Remy mourned the loss for a moment before grinning and slinging a friendly arm (a very friendly, rather intimate arm) around his shoulders, leading him toward a common room reserved for the adult X-men's use.

"Y' need a break _Ange_! Y' ever play poker wit de heir o' a multi-billionaire, a Southern belle, n' a Cajun?"

Harry looked interested. "Can't say I have." Remy leered exaggeratedly and his warm breath puffed in Harry's ear. "Maybe dis Cajun could convince y' t' try strip poker." Harry blushed and shivered as the words ran over the shell of his ear. Maybe this Cajun could.

oOo

TBC,,,

_Sneak Peek_

Remy was staring at his pale pink lips with all the focus of an artist. He reached out a single finger to softly brush the lower lip in a slow caress.

oOo


	10. Chapter 10

AN: So I actually have more than this written but the ending seemed like such a good place to leave off….sorry it's a bit short! I hope you all enjoy! Also a change in Pieter (peter's) name spelling….Sigh I just got a review that made me realize a very silly mistake I made several times in the initial draft of this chapter…I keep screwing up Rogue's name…granted, I think word's spell check is partially to blame…

**Chapter 10**

"Y'all gonna join us?"

The sweet Southern voice carried over to the pair as they walked into the library to find Pieter, Logan, Rogue, and Warren seated, ready to play.

The many windows were curtained and the lighting dimmed, hazy smoke from both Logan and, surprisingly, Rogue's Cuban cigars drifted through the room and a round table sat dotted with glasses of whiskey and neat piles of chips, creating an atmosphere that reminded Harry of the back rooms of Moscow clubs. At 17, he had been training with a notorious and very harsh Russian master of Survival Magic- a branch of wizardry that not many had the guts to take on.

That same master, who went by Mstislav, had several business deals with the Russian Mafia and some of the best and most important dealings went on behind the thick, soundproof walls of Moscow's nocturnal party scene, where scantily clad bodies, flowing liquor, and high stake card games were the norm.

The Russians, Harry had found, had a tradition of mixing drink and business. Harry vaguely remembered Mstislav's wry voice saying, "You can't trust a man with your money until you've been drunk with him". He had then casually pulled his wand out before twisting around to stun a rather ordinary looking man that had been walking a few feet behind them.

Pulling the man's hands out of his pockets and pointing out the gun in the stranger's left hand and wand in his right, he had concluded with, "Though you should never be so foolish to actually trust anyone".

So, along with spells to detect snipers, avoid frostbite, and jumpstart your own failing heart, Harry learned how to mix drink, money, and cards and to hold back his blind faith in humanity, however small it may have been. Consequentially, it had improved his poker skills.

Shaking off his reverie, Harry realized he had missed Remy's response to Rouge's friendly question. A gloved hand on his back gently ushering him to a seat between Pieter and Rogue clued him into Remy's apparent agreement.

After seating Harry, Remy grabbed a chair of his own and sidled up between Logan and Warren.

Logan cast a suspicious glance at Harry before addressing Remy, "The kid know how to play?"

Remy scowled at him, though before he had the chance to say anything, Harry gently butted in with a small grin and, "Yes, actually I do". Logan scoffed before downing his whiskey. "We'll see."

oOo

Several hours later proved Harry's skills, when the vast pile of chips before him began to rival Mount Fuji and even Logan had to admit that he had one of the best poker faces he had ever seen.

"Where did you learn to play like that?" asked an impressed Warren as they started to count chips and pour more whiskey. Harry blushed a bit and shrugged his shoulders before tilting his lips up and saying, "Moscow actually. With the Russian Mafia." Pieter's eyebrows went up at this and stayed up as Harry went on.

"I was studying with a man who had connections with them and almost every week we would go to the clubs so that he could conduct business over drinks and poker." Rogue spoke up next, fascinated with his story. "Wasn't that dangerous, especially for a student?" Harry gave a crooked grin. "Trust me Rogue, that was one of the least dangerous adventures I've gotten into over the past couple of years." Her eyes gleamed now. "Now y' know y' can't just leave it at that!" Harry realized he had the avid attention of everyone at the table, though Logan attempted to feign indifference and hide his curiosity.

Sighing, the wizard tiredly resigned himself to dealing with several very interested mutants before Remy, catching his exhaustion, started to push his chips to the middle of the table. "Remy don' no' bout y'all but dis Cajun be thinkin' dat Harry _paraît fatigue. _ Leave 'im be fo' t'night."

The look Harry sent with was filled surprised gratitude. The others glanced at watches and clocks and realized it was very, very late, though one might argue it could be considered very early. In any matter, they gathered the chips together in one giant pile and cleaned up their mess before saying goodnight and drifting off to their rooms.

Harry and Remy began to walk to the elevator on their side of the mansion, quiet until they reached it and Harry said, somewhat shyly, "Thanks Remy."

Remy cast him a dashing grin. "_Pas un problème."_ He became serious a moment later, before looking straight into Harry's eyes. "Remy be watchin' out fo' ya." Before either of them could say anything else, the elevator dinged. After getting out they walked toward their bedroom doors. Harry started to say goodnight, eyes cast down and face red, when they reached his door but Remy stopped him with a single word.

"Wait."

oOo

Remy reached out one hand to him, which Harry accepted hesitantly, and carefully pulled the wizard closer toward him, until Harry thought that he could feel Remy's heart beat against his own chest. His own pulse began to race and his eyes grew wide as he watched to see what the other would do next.

Remy was staring at his pale pink lips with all the focus of an artist. He reached out a single finger to softly brush the lower lip in a slow caress before trailing up Harry's cheek. Unconsciously it seemed, the two drew even closer, until their bodies were flush against each other.

Remy's other fingers came up so that he cupped the side of Harry's face and their lips were agonizingly close to touching; eyes closed, breathes mingling, foreheads just brushing. A brief exclamation from Remy. "Ah, _Ange_." And then, their lips met…

Remy was lost the moment his lips touched Harry's. He had meant for the kiss to be nothing more than a goodnight, a light, sweet peck to send Harry off to sleep smiling. But this, this was anything but an airy brush of lips. This was a warm, deep, open-mouthed affair that seemed to last forever. His one hand tangled in Harry's locks, the other clasped his slim waist, holding them together. Harry's arms were wrapped around his neck and, _Mon Dieu_, holding Remy as if he never wanted to let go. And Remy couldn't think of any reason he should let go, except for perhaps the inevitable lack of air. Even that was debatable when faced with continuing this kiss that was beyond a kiss, this kiss that was a hello and a promise, an embrace and an invitation.

However, their need for air caused them to eventually break apart, panting and still entwined. Reluctantly, they made space between their bodies and looked into each others eyes.

Harry looked awed and a bit frightened. "I-I've never…That was…" Remy nodded and smiled, a sweet, tender smile that Harry had never seen before.

"_Je vous remercie pour le baiser mon ange."_ He dropped a swift kiss, more like what he had been aiming for before, winked, abandoning his sincere manner, and said teasingly. _"Bonne nuit, avant que mon contrôle me laisse._

Harry blushed furiously and they released each other completely. Remy stood waiting as Harry entered his bedroom, ignoring the impulse to join him while the door shut carefully. He closed his eyes and grinned, white teeth gleaming.

"Until t'morrow Ange."

oOo

Behind his door, Harry, ears tuned to even the smallest of noises, smiled as well as he stripped his clothes off for bed. "Until then Remy."

_**Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office**_

"A bit of lemon please." Severus handed a cup of steaming tea garnished with a thin slice of lemon to the Albus. "Ah, lovely. Thank you Severus." The dour potions master nodded and fixed his own slightly sweet cup with a dash of milk. Perhaps not the expected drink of the former Deatheater, but he had taken it just so for years now. He sipped and mentally hummed. Perfect.

The two wizards were quiet, sitting in large, plush armchairs before the fire. It was an unusually cold summer night. Fawkes perched nearby, head tucked under his wing as he napped, and the portraits covering the walls of the office snored happily away.

Severus broke the silence. "Do you think he's alright?" There was no need to query after the identity of the 'he'.

Dumbledore tugged his beard a few times and set his cup down on a nearby table. "I believe he is fine Severus. Harry is remarkable in his ability to adapt to a new setting." Severus looked pensive. "Albus he has never before been so…damaged. Add that to explosive new powers and an entirely foreign country…" He trailed off. The other wizard's eyes twinkled. "An entirely foreign country Severus?" His tone was amused as he repeated Severus' words. "It's America. They speak the same language-" He was interrupted by a snort and a short, "To a point."

Albus continued firmly. "-And have many of the same cultural norms as Britain. Not to mention Harry's familiarity with foreign lands- including America. He spent a few months there with that delightful chap with all the motor-bicycles and…what was that word? Knotted-dye?" Severus grudgingly supplied the word. "Tie-dye Albus."

"Ah, yes, quite right." He picked up his rapidly cooling tea and with a frown and flick of his finger, reheated it.

"Now, onto more unpleasant matters." At this the snoring from the portraits stopped and sleeping eyes snapped open. Fawkes shook his feathers and raised his head, beady black eyes alert. Dumbledore looked worn and tired, older than just a few moments before.

Holding his tea in one hand and reaching into a pocket with the other, the older wizard pulled forth a folded piece of parchment. He held it out to the potions master who looked now a touch anxious. Severus knew whatever this was would not ease his sudden worry. Albus confirmed his apprehension.

"I received a very unsettling letter that I'd like you to take a look at."

oOo

_**French Translations**_

_paraît fatigue_

looks tired

_Pas un problème._

Not a Problem

"_Je vous remercie pour le baiser mon ange." _

Thank you for the kiss my angel

"_Bonne nuit, avant mon contrôle laisse-moi."_

Good Night, before my control leaves me.

_**Sneak Peek **_

Harry woke up content for the first time in what felt like years. The grief of the war, losing his friends, and leaving his country was still there but, Harry realized with growing surprise, he was beginning to remember the good things about his friends as well. Something in him rebelled at the thought. Was he dishonoring his friends, their memory, by leaving them and then….healing? He mentally shook off his anxiety, boxing it off in his mind for later contemplation.

oOo

Thanks to all my reviewers!


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